


A Very Hisoka Wedding

by Carochinha



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: HxHBB20, M/M, Post anime canon, implied canon typical violence, implied past sexual abuse, this somewhere between crack and a very serious fic, usually both at once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:54:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25004230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carochinha/pseuds/Carochinha
Summary: Illumi’s getting married. Hisoka’s not happy. Gon is helpful.Killua wonders why his life is like this.
Relationships: Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck, Hisoka/Illumi Zoldyck
Comments: 51
Kudos: 678
Collections: HxH Favs, Hxhbb





	1. The Processional

**Author's Note:**

> Hoooly shit, this was a trip. So, for context, I started writing this on some lined paper, in a plane, in 2015!!! 
> 
> Then I forgot about it for like, 3 years, and picked it back up again when I was doing my thesis because lol, priorities, and finished it this year for the Big Bang! Which this fic is a part of, btw! Hooray for fandom events! In any case, this has been on my WIPs for way too long, and it's finally time to let it out in the wild. 
> 
> As always, many thanks to the great @WingSongHalo for providing me with her helpful editing skills. It was actually her place that I was flying to when I started writing this way back when, so, hooray, continuity! 
> 
> Anyway, let's get on to trash clown in love with murdery needleman. I truly hope you enjoy this thing, and hey, maybe it'll motivate me to write more in the future. At the very least, I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> PS: updates on Wednesdays and Sundays

It all started when they were training one day, somewhere in a forest in an undisclosed country. They were both sweating, their breathing hitched. Gon aimed a punch at his face, which he easily dodged, leaving him to not-so-easily dodge a kick to his stomach. He jumped back, finding his back against a large tree. There was a certain smirk in Gon’s face, a look of triumph. In his current situation, considering he was already tired, he thought Gon was going to get him too. 

But as he prepared to attack, his hand already curled into a fist, he stopped, looking at the sky with a puzzled, apprehensive expression. Killua moved forward, looking past the tree’s branches at the object of Gon’s curiosity. What he saw… didn’t please him. It was one of his family’s hawks, always an unwanted surprise, and there was no way it was bringing good news. All the same, he held out his arm, and the hawk circled him twice overhead before landing there. 

With a somewhat shaky hand, he untied the piece of paper from the hawk’s leg. 

“Killua, what—” Gon started. 

“I don’t know, I still haven’t had a chance to look, you idiot.” He unrolled the paper, reading it. And then re-reading it. And falling on his butt as his legs decided to give up on him. 

“Killua, what does it say?” Gon asked more urgently than before. In lieu of answering, he thrust the slip of paper into Gon’s hands, not trusting his mouth to do the proper sounds right at the moment. Gon read the missive quickly. 

_“Killua, please come home for your brother Illumi’s wedding._

_Your loving mother, Kikyo”_

There was no explanation, no date, no nothing. Just, apparently, his brother Illumi getting married as though it was the most natural thing ever. 

“Your brother’s getting married?!?” Gon demanded in surprise. “Killua, you never told me your brother had a girlfriend!” 

“ _Really??_ I mean, I didn’t know it either, and honestly just thinking about it is making me break out in a cold sweat, but even if I did, Gon, even if I did, why, _why_ would I tell you??”

“Still…” Gon said, ignoring completely what Killua had just said “A wedding, huh… Seems kinda nice…”

“Gon,” Killua reiterated, his face neutral, “this is ILLUMI we’re talking about!”

“Yeah, but still… I mean, he found a girl that he loved enough to marry, right?”

“Well, now that I think about it…” Killua looked pensive for a moment. “He probably hasn’t even really met her.”

“Whaaaaat?”

“Yeah, I mean, I think my mom just met my dad once before their wedding, and he tried to kill her.”

“WHAT?!”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s kind of a family tradition? You wouldn’t want your son to marry someone weak, so you find a nice strong girl and tell him to try to kill her. If he can’t, great, wedding time!”

“Killua, your family’s really weird.”

“And that’s not news.” 

“And…?” Gon looked expectant. 

“And… what?” 

“Are you going?” 

“No!! Are you a complete idiot? Why in the world would I voluntarily go into that den of wolves just to attend Illumi’s wedding?!”

And then, with a sudden chill and immediate switch to a combat stance, the ‘why’ appeared. It was a familiar sensation, one that both of them could place immediately, and yet something felt… wrong. 

“Hi...soka?” Gon said hesitantly. Without even thinking, Killua moved in front of him, shielding him between his body and the tree. Gon couldn’t use Nen right now, and that made the situation a lot more dangerous. And yet, as far as Hisoka’s murderous aura went, this one was pretty subdued. 

From a distance, a figure approached, and both boys tightened their stances. However, all of Gon’s apprehension was replaced by surprise as soon as he saw the murder magician. 

Killua couldn’t say it wasn’t a bit of a shock either, but he wasn’t naive enough to relax in front of Hisoka just because he looked… like _that_. 

His hair was down, and he wasn’t wearing his usual make-up, his face looking like it had when they’d caught him showering in Greed Island (oh yes, Killua, great thing to think about now), the only other time they’d seen him like this. 

And then… And then…

“Hisoka!” Gon exclaimed, completely unaware of the word ‘subtlety’ or maybe ‘not pissing off crazy clown guys who already want to kill us’ “Your clothes! Your hair! Your face! What happened?!”

Hisoka was wearing dark, tight jeans and a deep purple hoodie, looking about as right as Leorio would wearing Gon’s green shorts and jacket. He’d even traded in his gaudy high heels for a pair of black sneakers. 

There was something VERY unsettling about seeing Hisoka look like a normal person. 

“Ah, Gon…” he purred, a smirk that was both amused and unsettling spreading across his face. “It's called makeup remover, you charmingly ignorant rugrat. Although, it’s good to see you care for both enemies and friends, as usual… whichever category you find me landing in.” 

“Huh? I don’t know what you’re talking about. Hisoka is just Hisoka, right?” Killua sometimes wanted to punch Gon. 

“So?” he asked, refusing to be distracted. “What are you doing here?”

“I…” Hisoka hesitated for a moment, which was so weird that Killua felt a shiver run up his spine. “...require your help.” 

“Our help?!” Gon asked excitedly, which was probably not the best way to react, but Killua wasn’t sure of anything anymore. First his brother getting married, now Hisoka asking them for help. Wait… 

“Yes, you see, my dear saplings, there is another whom I have kept my eye on all this time.” _Oh no._ Killua’s thoughts were in disarray as he observed Hisoka’s manic face, a disturbing mix of malice and excitement sparkling in his golden eyes, the perverse twist of his mouth into a sadistic grin. “Another whom I have long wished to see cornered and pushed past their breaking point... eventually. But you see, my sweet lambs, someone has dared to steal him away from me before I had my chance.”

 **_Oh shit._ ** Killua laid his forehead in his hands, deciding that today was being too weird and he wanted out. 

“But then, why don’t you just kill whoever stole him?” Gon asked with a tilt of his head. “I mean, not that I think you should, but it seems like the sort of thing you’d do.”

“Because, Gon, ” Killua answered before Hisoka could speak, his head still in his hands, “his target has already tried to kill this person and they couldn’t. And Hisoka thinks that if this person is strong enough to stop him, they’re strong enough to make just killing them seem like a waste. Right, Hisoka?” 

Hisoka laughed. “Oooh, full marks! So, I suppose you already know what I’m talking about and why I need your help?” 

“I don’t!” Gon declared. Killua raised his head to shoot a dirty look at Hisoka. 

“Illumi. He’s talking about Illumi’s wedding.”

“Ooooh…” said Gon slowly. Then, with a pat on Killua’s back, “Gosh, Killua, why did you have to go and give that complicated explanation? You could’ve just said Hisoka was jealous!”

Right. ‘Subtlety’. ‘Not pissing off murder clowns’. Unknown concepts for Gon. 

“Ah… Turns out both my adorable—”

“PLEASE STOP WITH THE CREEPY NICKNAMES!!” Killua yelled. 

“Turns out both of you are quite attentive.”

Pause. 

Longer pause. 

“So you actually _are_ jealous?” Killua asked slowly. 

Hisoka spread his hands and shrugged. “I suppose there isn’t a better way to put it. So, will you help?”

At the same time Killua said, “But help you with _what_ exactly?!” Gon, pouncing on his shoulders, screamed eagerly, “We’ll do it, we’ll do it!”

* * *

And this was how Killua found himself standing at the Testing Gates, Gon bouncing up and down on his heels excitedly. 

“Now that I think about it, I’ve never been to your house proper. Just made it to the butler’s quarters last time.” Gon seemed really happy at the prospect of visiting his family’s home. 

“And why couldn’t we keep things that way?” Killua sighed. “Gon, listen, behind these doors is a den of demons. Nothing good ever comes out of this place. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“That’s not true!” and when Killua turned around, Gon was looking at him with an uncharacteristically serious face. “ _You_ came from there, and you’re something good.”

“Gon, what…!” he sputtered, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets and turning away even as he felt a blush creep up his cheeks. “Just be prepared, you idiot!”

“I know. I won’t do anything stupid, don’t worry.” he smiled reassuringly. 

_That’s the only thing I ever do: worry,_ he thought, and sighed. “Let’s get going then. No point in delaying it further.”

He opened five gates effortlessly, muscles hardly straining. He beckoned Gon to follow him, but the other boy shook his head. 

“I want to try and open them by myself,” Gon told him, already rolling his shoulders to warm up, a familiar competitive fire in his eyes. Killua knew arguing would be futile, and thus sat down on the grass, waiting as the doors closed. Soon he felt a large snout sniffing at his head and looked up. 

Many a grown man had let out a scream of terror at seeing his family’s beloved pet, with his unsettlingly intelligent eyes and massive maw of jagged teeth, but to Killua, this was just business as usual. “Oh, hi, Mike. I’m sorry, I must smell weird for you to be sniffing me so much.” Mike’s enormous tail merely swung about behind him in response, stirring up a sizable breeze. This brought on another memory, before his second Hunter Exam, when the Kiriko family had told him they could smell Gon on him. 

Speaking of whom... Killua heard the doors shift and watched as Gon opened three of them. 

“Eeeh?? No fair, Killua opened five!” He looked genuinely dismayed, his shoulders slumping. 

“Well, looks like somebody needs more training then,” Killua told him, but even as he said it, he noticed Gon had already moved on. 

“Ah, Mike! Do you still remember me?” A quick sniff at the suddenly nervous looking boy proved that yes, Gon’s smell hadn’t changed much since the last time he’d been here. 

As they started walking towards the house, Killua turned to Gon, his arms crossed behind his head in what he thought a convincing display of nonchalance. 

“Don’t you like Mike?”

“Huh? Why’d you say that?” 

“Well, you looked really nervous when you were talking to him.”

“Oh, hmm...” Gon looked around sheepishly for a moment. “He kind of freaks me out a bit, I guess.” He said it quietly, like it was a secret no one had shared before. 

Killua didn’t point out that only his freaky family and total idiots weren’t afraid of Mike. “If the guard dog freaks you out,” he said instead, “this is going to be a fun experience.”

They crested another hill, and found themselves in front of Canary, guarding the way. She bowed low with respect.

“Welcome back, Young Master Killua, Gon-sama.” Her words were professional, but her tone sounded warm.

“Ah, there’s no need to be so formal, Canary!” Gon spluttered as the girl raised her head. “After last time, to hear you speaking so formally is just weird.”

“Hey, Canary,” Killua waved as he approached her. “So, what do you know about this wedding business?”

“Not much, I’m afraid, Killua-sama. Honestly, there are so many rumors flying around in the butler’s quarters, I couldn’t tell you which are right.” She shook her head slightly, her thick braids swaying. “I’ve both heard that she’s from Meteor City, just like your lady mother, but I’ve also heard that she’s a princess from a faraway kingdom. The only thing everyone seems to agree on is that she’s very beautiful and very strong.” Her mouth quirked over to one side thoughtfully. “But honestly, I doubt anyone your parents picked to marry Illumi-sama wouldn’t be.”

“Hmm,” Killua responded with a nod. “Thanks, Canary. I guess we’ll have to see for ourselves, huh?”

Canary smiled and bowed her head again as the two resumed walking, Gon waving at her excitedly. 

“Wow, I don’t think I made it this far last time!” Killua’s friend spoke up after a while, his eyes darting around and trying to take everything in. Honestly, Killua thought, there wasn’t much that was good to look at around here. 

“Oh, right, you would’ve turned right back there to go to the butler’s quarters.” Killua pointed over his shoulder with his thumb towards a crossing in the road some distance back. 

Gon nodded. “I wonder if I’ll get to meet all your family this time... ”

Killua pulled a face, sticking out his tongue in disgust for a moment. “For starters, I have no idea why that’d be a good thing, and also, I’m pretty sure you’ve met almost all of them.”

“What? Really? Let’s see…” He scrunched up his face in thought as he tried to remember. “ I met your mother and your sister when I came here last time.”

“Wait, what?” the other boy squawked, alarmed. “How’d you meet Alluka all that time ago?”

“No, your other sister,” said Gon with a shake of his head. “The cute one in the kimono.”

“Oh.” He felt his face sink back into a neutral expression. “You must mean Kalluto. Actually, he’s my brother.”

“I see...” Gon mulled that over for a second. “Cool!” he decided. “Anyway, I met your mother and your brother, and I’d already met Illumi in the Hunter’s Exam. I don’t think I’ve met anyone else. Oh, except Alluka, of course.”

“Well, we saw Milluki in the Yorkshin auction, remember?” Killua reminded him.

Gon’s face brightened into a smile at the memory, though Killua had no idea how anyone could recall something like that with a smile. “Oh, yeah, he was trying to buy Greed Island!”

“And then you met my grandfather in East Gourdeau, right before…” His words trailed off into silence. 

“Yeah...” Gon said quietly, before quickly recounting everyone on his fingers. “Anyway, I guess you’re right! I really have met most of your family!”

“Except my father…” Killua shoved his hands into his pockets with a sound halfway between a scoff and a laugh. “ _That’s_ gonna be fun to watch.”

The impressive Zoldyck mansion at last came into view, and Killua suddenly felt uneasy (well, more uneasy than he usually felt around here, anyway). Was this really such a good idea? But before he could entertain that thought for long, Gon spoke. 

“Wow, is that your home, Killua? It’s huuuuge!” His friend’s brown eyes were wide with wonder.

“I… guess so?” Killua said dubiously. Honestly, this place had never felt like home in the way that Whale Island had. 

“Let’s hurry up!” Gon said eagerly. “I wanna see what it looks like inside.” Before Killua could respond, Gon had grabbed his wrist and started running. 

He stopped only in front of the door, Tsubone watching them fondly. Killua made a point to remember that if she was watching them, there was a good chance his mother was too. 

“Welcome back, Killua-chan,” she said with a bow, and then raised her eyebrow at the boy at Killua’s side. “And who might this young man be?” 

Killua opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Gon was stifling a laugh and drawing the older butler’s attention. “Killua-ch…” One baleful glare from Killua was all it took for Gon to reconsider finishing that sentence. He cleared his throat and straightened his posture. “I mean, I’m Gon! Gon Freecs! I’m Killua’s best friend!”

He held up the _hand in which he was still holding Killua’s wrist_ as though to signify their status as best friends. Killua instantly broke free of his grasp, jamming his hand back into his pocket even as he felt his face heat up. 

“Ho ho ho, I see...” said Tsubone with a small chuckle. Killua wasn’t sure he liked the knowing sort of glint in her eye or the sly curve of her wrinkled mouth. “Well then, welcome, Gon-chan.”

And so she opened the door, through which Gon quickly barreled, looking like he wasn’t running head first into a house full of professional assassins. If he could imagine Gon’s reply to that (and he usually could), it’d be something like… 

_“And I’m not! I’m running inside my best friend Killua’s house!”_

And then Gon froze on the spot, stopping short with his stance wide. Killua ran inside after him to see what’d scared him, his heart rate already starting to pick up. 

“Killu!” he heard his mother shriek, and in another instant he was being smothered in a hug. “I’m so glad you came! Illumi and Milluki kept saying you wouldn’t come, but I knew you wouldn’t let us down. Even if you had to bring… _him._ ” 

Killua didn’t like the way her lip curled in disgust, nor the disdainful way she had said ‘him,’ but then again, he didn’t like a great many things about his mother. He untangled himself from her embrace and took a step back. 

“I came, just like you told me, so can you get off my case? You're gonna smother me.” he turned away, grabbing a slightly stunned Gon by the arm and pulling him upstairs. “C’mon Gon, lemme show you my room!”

They ran upstairs, and Killua opened the door. His room was just as he’d left it, although it seemed like the butlers had cleaned it every once in a while, since the room was not, as he had expected, covered in a layer of dust. 

“Killua, your bed is _huge!_ ” Before Killua could say anything, Gon had broken into a run and launched himself forward, landing facedown in the middle of his bed. It looked strange, seeing Gon in his room—two sides of his life, two realities that were never supposed to mix. The cold stone walls and the heavy velvet drapes and carpets... and then there was Gon, laughing as he rolled around, warm as the sun, and Killua couldn’t help the soft smile that crept up on his own face. He sat lightly on the edge of the bed, and before long, Gon was using his lap as a pillow. 

“So, what exactly _are_ we doing here?” Killua absolutely did not let his eyes linger on Gon’s as he looked up at him through his lashes.

“I am going to take this moment to remind you that _you_ were the one that readily said yes to helping Hisoka,” he said, fixing his eyes on one of the drapes instead, “so I really would rather you didn’t ask me that as though it was my idea.” 

“Welllllll…” the other boy hummed. His head was warm in Killua’s lap. “I guess we should start by assessing things. Hisoka was jealous right? ‘Cause your brother is getting married.” He said it so matter-of-factly that it almost didn’t sound completely insane. “So first I think we should figure out who he’s getting married to. You know, check out the competition!!” 

“You’re making it sound uncomfortably as though Hisoka is in love with my brother or something gross like that,” Killua snorted.

“Killua!” Gon admonished, raising himself up on his elbows and shoving his face towards Killua’s. “Love isn’t gross!!” 

Killua sputtered, his own face reddening up from Gon’s proximity, and turned away, struggling to keep his voice controlled. “It is when it has anything to do with Hisoka. Or Illumi. And with both of them at once?” He stuck out his tongue and mimed gagging. “That’s actually nauseating.” 

Gon jumped up, sitting down (way too close, in Killua’s opinion, sending his heart into a quick frenzy) next to him. 

“Okay so. We’ll track down this lady, and see why she wants to marry your brother. Honestly, besides Hisoka, I can’t even imagine anyone who’d want to.” 

“I’ll concede that point.” 

“And then…” He smiled, like he was a detective explaining how he had reached his brilliant conclusion or something. “We need to invite Hisoka to the wedding!” 

Whatever train of thought was going through Killua’s brain came to a screeching halt as his eyes locked onto Gon.

“What.” 

“I mean, I don’t know a lot about weddings,” his friend admitted. “But Mito-san used to listen to a lot of dramas on the radio while she was doing chores, and the people who didn’t want the wedding to happen were always the ones to show up and say so!” 

“Gon…” How to phrase this delicately and with as few insulting words as possible? “I think those were… different situations…” 

He looked genuinely intrigued. “How so?”  
  
Killua looked down, trying to understand why talking about weddings with Gon was suddenly a thing that was happening. 

“Well…” Why was looking at Gon so much harder than usual right now? “Usually in those dramas, I think what motivates someone to stop the wedding is a romantic interest in one of the parties getting married, y’know?” 

“Yes?” Killua looked up, seeing Gon staring at him expectantly, as though trying to figure out what point he was trying to make. 

“Well, I mean, the way you said it, it made it sound like Hisoka would be interested in Illumi… in _that way._ ” 

“Um, yes? I thought we'd established that already.” Gon was still looking at Killua very straightforwardly.

“Gon,” he intoned, not even believing that he had to explain this. “ _Gon._ ”

“Killua,” Gon responded blankly, blinking in confusion.  
  
“Gon, this is _Hisoka_ we’re talking about!” he burst out, flinging his arms into the air. “And _Illumi!_ Please tell me you understand how profoundly horrifying what you just said is!!”

Gon, to his dismay, did not look profoundly horrified. “I mean… Sure, if they started dating”—Killua’s brain tried desperately to blank out at that mental image, albeit without much in the way of success—“it might be bad for us, since they’re always after us, but maybe it would also make them happy and make them not chase after us all the time!” That wide smile was back, the one that said _I’ve figured out the perfect solution to this problem! Isn’t that great?_

It wasn’t. It was possibly the least great thing to ever happen. Killua responded by grabbing a nearby pillow and throwing it in his face. 

“You’re an idiot,” he said for probably the millionth time in their friendship.

And yet… for as disgusting as the idea might be, Gon could have a point (would he ever tell Gon this? Of course not). Maybe them getting together _would_ make them less likely to spend their time chasing after them… 

Of course, it could have the opposite effect, and make them into an even more formidable team. 

Killua sighed, resigning himself once again to the fact that the only way to discover if Gon’s insane plans worked was to try them. “So you really want to do this?” 

Gon, still splayed back on the bed as if Killua’s pillow had been a killing blow, flung the pillow off his face and beamed up at the other boy. “Yep!” 

“Stop the wedding and allow Hisoka to try to get together with Illumi if that’s what he wants to do?” Saying it aloud somehow made it sound even more ridiculous.

“Yep!” Gon grinned at him even wider. Killua’s stomach felt as knotted as a fishing net, and his heart was flopping like the fish trapped in it.

Killua took a deep breath and let it out, his face falling into his hands again. 

“Why is my life like this?” 

* * *

Illumi was awake. 

He didn’t know what time it was, and he didn’t know when he’d fallen asleep. That was, in and of itself, unusual. Unless he was on assignment, his sleep was scheduled down to the minute. 

But lately, he’d been having trouble falling asleep, had been waking up randomly in the middle of the night, had been napping at random hours of the day. 

It had started… maybe a couple months ago now, after he’d returned from an assignment. His mother had called, and he’d gone to see her in her chambers. Pushing open the door, he’d entered her room. 

“You called for me, Mother?” 

“Ah, Illumi.” She’d turned around to face him, her laser vision focusing on him. “I heard your assignment went well. That’s good.” 

This was rare. Mother never called him to congratulate him on his assignments. She hadn’t in a long time, not ever since Killua had come along. 

“There’s something I need you to do.” Ah, and there it was. “You see, our family is facing a grave problem.” 

Her heels clicked on the floor as she walked a few paces away from him, towards the window overlooking the forest, and farther away, the gates and beyond. 

“Milluki is an intelligent boy, and he's obedient too, but he's foolish and hot headed. Killua… Killua should've been the one to lead our family in the future, but he's instead chosen to abandon us.”

She paused for a moment, her lips pressed together into a thin line as she looked off into the distance, the red dot in her eyepiece vanishing completely as her vision unfocused. Illumi didn't have to wonder who... no, _what_ she was thinking about before she continued. 

“Kalluto was always told he could do what he wanted. Joining that group was not what I expected, though at least it's a reasonable start for his career. But he's always been independent, and put his own ambitions in front of our family's success.”

Kikyo faced him, beckoning him closer with her hand. Illumi obliged. As he approached, she raised her hand, gently stroking his cheek. 

“And that leaves me with you, Illumi.” Her voice was coaxing and soft, the way one might speak to a stray cat. “My first son. Always obedient. Always cool headed. Always a good child.” 

Still, there was a tone of longing in her voice, and all Illumi could hear was the unspoken _“And yet, never good enough.”_

“You were always there... for me, for your brothers, for all your family. And now it's time for you to reap the rewards of that commitment. It's time for you to do your duty as the next head of the Zoldyck family, provided Killua does not return.” 

“Yes, mother,” he responded, since that was generally the only thing he was expected to say. 

“There's a good boy,” she cooed, giving his cheek a pat. “Do as your mother says, and everything will be well, for all of us that remain.” she withdrew her hand, and Illumi had a distinct feeling that he was being dismissed. 

“But mother,” he interceded before she could walk off, “I'm afraid I don't understand. What exactly do you require of me?”

“Now, Illumi,” she chided him with a laugh that sounded as fake as any of Illumi’s own. “Don't play dumb. You're going to get married, obviously. You're going to take a wife, and continue the Zoldyck bloodline.” 

“Oh,” he said. “Of course, mother.” He bowed to her, turning around and taking his leave. 

Something strange was roiling inside him as he walked away. His chest was unpleasantly tight, and the sound of rushing water was loud in his ears as he recalled everything he knew about Zoldyck family tradition. 

The marriage of the future head of the family was imperative. The parents would find a suitable partner for their child, and they would meet for the first time in combat. No _nen_ was to be used, although the candidate would have been previously tested in that regard. 

There were more things, Illumi was sure, but he'd always heard these lessons with the caveat that this responsibility would fall to Killua. There were many things he was sure to have forgotten that had been overwritten with information he'd deemed more important. He'd always pictured himself helping his mother pick Killua's bride, preparing Killua's wedding, molding Killua into the next family head. 

His mouth felt dry, and he licked his parched lips, his hands feeling strangely clammy. 

But instead, it would be him. _He_ would be the one going through the motions of the Zoldyck traditions, the one charged with taking his mother's vision to the future. And for the first time in a very long time, Illumi didn't know how to feel. 

That had been when the erratic sleep patterns had begun. And as the wedding day steadily grew closer, it'd been getting worse. 

His mind back in the present, he stared at the ceiling with unseeing eyes. Eyes that were so trained to see in low light that the only way he could sleep was like this, in a completely windowless room, the door sealed to prevent any light from entering. 

He considered getting up. And yet he didn't. Lately, he'd been wavering in a lot of decisions, from the big ones to the meaningless. Now he was getting married in a couple of days and he still didn't know how he was supposed to feel about that. 

Sometimes he wondered if he could even feel at all. He remembered there had been a time he could. 

The first memory Illumi could recall was murder. He had no idea who he had killed, nor where he had been; he just remembered the feeling of blood dripping between his fingers and his mother gently patting his head, saying _"Good job, Illumi."_

The second memory Illumi could recall was holding his brother in his arms soon after he’d been born. For the first time, a life was resting in his hands that he felt more than nothing for. This was someone who was important to him. Someone he wanted to protect.

From there on out, memories would come closely to one another, sometimes just flashes of sound and color and vague half-remembered sensations, other times so memorable he could swear he was still living in that moment.

Milluki, lying on the floor bleeding after a particularly hard training day. Holding Killua in his arms for the first time, and feeling a thousand times stronger about protecting him than he ever had about Milluki.

Hushed conversations among the adults around him about Killua's silver hair, about what it could mean. 

And then one fateful day, walking into one of halls in the Manor and seeing Milluki there, eyes unfocused. He was bleeding, a puddle spreading slowly underneath him. 

He'd choked his name out, ran to his side. Hands on his shoulders, Illumi had knelt to Milluki's height. And then his younger brother had said “Onii-san”, his tone flat, barely audible. Something was very wrong. Milluki was a crybaby, someone who'd run to him bawling whenever he felt his training was too hard to bear. Seeing him like this was so much like staring in a mirror that it chilled Illumi to the only part of his core that wasn't reflected in his brother's eyes. 

After carrying him back to his room, while dressing and treating his injuries, he gently coaxed Milluki into telling him what had happened. Not that he couldn’t figure it out. A part of him, the part of him that maybe still remembered his mother's love before Killua had been born, just needed confirmation. 

As expected, Milluki had been caught in one of his mother's worse moods. When the facade of finishing school and sophistication would fall away and all that would be left would be the feral animal from Meteor City she'd always hidden away inside. Those were the moments that anyone and everyone who wasn't Killua or the elder Zoldycks (and even then, only because she knew she was weaker than them) was an enemy, up to and including her remaining children. 

And every time she'd attack one of her children like that, they'd lose a little bit of their soul. Illumi knew that best of all. 

So that had been when he decided he'd always be there to protect them. Illumi didn't have any interests, any life, any soul already, and the little remnant that existed of it was focused solely on protecting his siblings. So that was what he'd do, with unwavering dedication and zeal. 

And it had worked. Thinking back on it, Illumi could almost say it had worked too well. Barring himself, all of his siblings had led normal… Normal _er_ lives. And many of them had left him behind for it. For a long time, he'd felt wrathful of that. Killua, Kalluto… Even _that thing._ Thanks to his efforts, to him keeping his mother from hurting them as she'd hurt him, they'd all managed to grow, not only as assassins, but as people. 

But, laying in his bed in the cover of complete darkness, he even let go of the wrath. And that only left the ever-present doubt, swirling inside him until it threatened to swallow him up.. 

The others had grown. For the most part, they'd left. His job, the one he took up all those years ago, was done. Milluki pretty much did his own thing all the time without being bothered, since he would still obey the orders from his family when needed. Killua had left, maybe never to come back, taking Alluka with him. Kalluto was off doing who knows what, clearly inspired by his big brother. 

And that left Illumi. Always his mother's puppet, always ready to do whatever was needed to cool her anger. 

But now… what reason did he have to do that?


	2. Words of Welcome and Introduction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I told you that my Master thesis was 6k words and this fic is over 30k? Because like. Priorities.

Killua stealthily entered the room where Illumi's wedding was to be held. To call it a chapel would be to insult every religion on the planet, so he mentally settled for “hall.”

It was… He couldn't really be sure, but judging by the low-cast sunset spilling out of the stained glass windows, he was guessing somewhere around six in the evening. The hall was a blur of liveliness, several butlers placing chairs and moving drapes and having spirited arguments over what looked like cushions, all under the watchful eye of… 

“And what are _you_ doing here?” Killua smiled as he approached, hands in his pockets and an easy smile on his lips.

“Onii-sama!” Kalluto's smile grew as he turned around, clipboard in hand. “I could ask you the same!” 

Killua didn't really want to explain that a pedophilic murderous jester had asked him politely to stop the wedding, so he decided to go for the other explanation. 

“Well, when I heard Illumi was getting married I thought hell must've froze over, and if that wasn't enough to drag me back here, then probably nothing would be. But don't get me wrong, I'm here on my own terms, and I'll leave on my own terms.” Killua's expression darkened, and his voice dropped down an octave. “So don't think about making me stay.” 

“Pfft.” Of all the responses that Killua expected, Kalluto breaking into laughter wasn't one of them. “Oh, Onii-sama, I don't care about that anymore.”

Killua took a step back, giving Kalluto a once over. He looked… different, he had to admit. Maybe it was just because of the whole wedding planning thing, but he'd ditched the kimono, and was wearing a perfectly simple black hoodie with tight black jeans, with black high top sneakers. The only pop of colour was now in his magenta eyes, which were still as bright as ever. But it wasn't just his appearance. His aura was different too, somehow sharper. 

“Onii-sama.” Killua met his brother’s eyes again, drawn out of his thoughts. “We should fight sometime. I could show you how far I've come since you've last seen me.” 

Something about his voice, about the look in his eyes, sent a shiver down Killua's spine. And then it was gone as fast as it had appeared, and Kalluto was back to the picture of wide eyed innocence. 

“Anyway, Onii-sama, what do you know about Illumi's wedding?” 

“Huh? Well… Not much really. Actually… besides the fact that it's happening, nothing.”

“Oh. Well then... ” Kalluto looked positively delighted. “Have I got a tale to tell you.”

A few minutes later, after Kalluto left a couple of paper effigies holding his clipboard and keeping watch, both brothers were sitting at the kitchen table, Kalluto serving them both tea. After he sat down, picking up his cup with both hands and blowing on it softly, he began his story. 

Illumi's bride was rarely seen and only spoken of in hushed tones, but Kalluto had been able to gather that her name was Babirye, and that she'd come from a small country near the Federation of Ochima, some place called Amalii no one knew very well how to locate. From his research, it was a country that prided itself on its seclusion from the outside world, but anyone who’d ever come from there had been extraordinary. 

She'd been found wandering around Meteor City for reasons still unexplained, and their mother had jumped at the chance of having a person from that mysterious country join the family. There hadn’t really been any guarantee from the beginning that she was telling the truth about her origins, but her strength and apparent beauty more than made up for the doubts she might raise. 

“And she accepted?!” Killua exclaimed upon hearing this, jostling the tea in his cup. 

“Yeah, that’s the weird part.” Kalluto had been making little napkin figures of the people he talked about, and was now moving them around the table with Nen, making them chase after each other. “It was like she was waiting for someone like us to approach her… In any case, she came here soon after, and I’ve only seen her once.”

Kalluto went on to explain that it had been right before her ceremonial fight with Illumi. She had been wrapped in several layers of bright, colorful traditional Amalii clothing, with a veil covering her face. The only part that could be seen was her eyes and the skin around them, both very dark, and her hands, covered in innumerable golden rings. 

“So… we’ve got nothing on her identity,” Killua surmised, taking a sip of his tea. It usually wouldn’t be his first choice of beverage, but he had to admit Kalluto was pretty good at preparing it. His younger brother shuffled uncomfortably in his seat, as though pondering what to say. “What? Come out with it.” 

“Well…” Kalluto sounded unsure. “She seemed familiar. When our gazes crossed… I don’t know. It was like I’d seen her before, somewhere, many times. But at the same time, it was the gaze of a complete stranger, and her aura was not one I knew.” 

And with that, both siblings fell quiet, the silence of the setting sun enveloping them. 

* * *

  
  


As Killua made his way back to his room, he thought about his conversation with Kalluto. A mysterious bride from a secluded, remote country that had readily agreed to become part of one of the most dangerous families in the world. A bride that looked familiar and at the same time completely foreign. Someone strong enough to match Illumi in hand-to-hand combat, and charming enough to please his mother. 

Head swirling with thoughts, he opened the door to his room, stepping inside, closing it behind him. His eyes, as they were wont to do, fell immediately upon Gon. 

Even now, months after they’d been reunited, seeing Gon still made his heart catch with relief. Gon was still splayed out on his bed, now profoundly asleep, the last remnants of the setting sun shining on his face, as though it didn't want to leave the boy behind. 

Although… It was debatable how long Killua would be able to look at Gon (and himself, for that matter) and see a boy rather than a man. It was March, and Gon would be fifteen in a couple of months. 

Killua sat down in the bed next to his sleeping best friend, who at some point had kicked off his boots and taken off his jacket, covering his legs with a blanket. He looked so very boyish still, if one didn't look too closely. 

But he knew that Gon had been having to buy new footwear frequently. He had felt his body ache as his limbs grew longer, while Gon appeared to get shorter than him by the day. Even now, as Gon threw an arm across his eyes to protect them from the offending sun, he could see a dark shadow of hair under it. 

Killua knew that they were both changing, growing up, and that shouldn't have been completely terrifying, but it was, bringing his almost daily nightmares back to the front of his mind. 

His reverie was broken by the buzzing of his phone, and Killua welcomed the distraction. His lockscreen was a selfie he'd taken with Alluka at the beach, back in September, and his actual wallpaper was another picture he'd taken, this time with Nanika, as snow was falling around them. Now that he thought on it, that'd been shortly before he'd met up with Gon. 

Unsurprisingly, the message he received was also from his sisters, and Killua smiled softly as he opened the app. 

_“Dear Onii-chan:_

_I’m just sending this message to reassure you that we’re doing just fine at Leorio’s! 👨👧👧I know he looked very upset when you dropped us off, but that’s all for show! 🤭He’s actually very happy to have us around, I think._

_I hope everything’s going well there too. It seems like such an exciting mission, to stop a wedding and bring two star-crossed lovers together! 😍Please tell us everything afterwards!!😇_

_Also, I hope you do use this chance to have fun with Gon, just the two of you again. 😛I know since we’ve met up me and Nanika have always been there, so maybe this will be a bit like old times for you guys? 👀👀👀_

_I won’t lie and say we don’t miss you, because we do, Nanika especially, but we’re also having a lot of fun with Leorio. In any case, we’ll see both of you soon!!💕💕💕_

_PS: Nanika says “Fight on, Killua!🖤””_

Right after that message, Alluka had sent a picture of herself, smiling while sitting at Leorio’s kitchen table, the man himself behind her, busy sautéing something in a frying pan while simultaneously vigorously yelling, by the looks of it, at someone on his phone, which was precariously held between his ear and his shoulder. Killua couldn’t help but chuckle. Yes, it seemed like everything was good on that front. 

“Killua?” Ah. It seemed he had woken up Gon, who was staring up at him with half-lidded eyes. 

“Ah, sorry. Alluka sent me a message.” He showed Gon the picture, and was rewarded with one of Gon’s softer smiles, the one he’d reserved especially for his sisters, and that in and of itself was enough to squeeze Killua’s heart tightly. 

“They seem to be having fun.” 

“Yeah…” 

“Do you wish you were there with them?” Gon was suddenly looking at him quite seriously, and Killua had to look down at his hands. 

“I mean… I’d rather not be here at all, y’know?” _But if it’s with you, I don’t really mind it quite so much,_ he added in his mind, a sad smile playing at his lips. 

“Well, I’m happy being here with you, Killua!” 

“Idiot, what are you saying?! Do you even realize where we…” But any words he was going to say were lost in his throat as Gon grabbed his arm with surprising strength, pulling him down to lie next to him on the bed. 

He found himself face to uncomfortably close face with Gon, who was smiling gently. 

“We’re here. Together. Nothing else is important.” And, as the last rays of sunlight faded away, Gon threw the blanket over the both of them, settling back into a comfortable position, hand still around Killua’s arm. 

It was warm, under the blanket, Gon's legs touching his, Gon's breath caressing his face, Gon's hand still gently clinging to his arm, as though making sure he wouldn't, _couldn't_ run away; and his face was warm too, probably red all over, and Killua thought of how this was a bad idea, of how they shouldn't lower their guard so easily in this place, of how they'd have to have dinner soon, of how his mother would _flip her shit_ if she found them like this… 

Then Gon sighed softly, his hand going limp on his arm and dropping down to the bed, their fingers now barely touching. 

And Killua smiled too, moving his fingers forward ever so slightly, staring dotingly at Gon as he slept. It wasn't long before the warmth and darkness took him too, to a dreamless sleep they could share. 

* * *

  
  


From his position perched atop a tree branch, Hisoka smiled as he watched the two boys sleeping through the window. Even as they started their transition into adulthood, they were still so adorably innocent. To fight them one day, if Gon was able to restore his Nen, would be exhilarating. 

But enough about that. For once, those boys weren’t the reason he was here. He went back to scanning the humongous manor with his eyes. There, through a window on the second floor. Silva and Zeno were sitting at a table, their mouths moving fast as they discussed something. Probably some very important assassin business. Boring. 

He shifted his gaze to the hall where the event was to be held. The lady of the house was screeching at the top of her lungs (Hisoka could swear he was actually hearing her, far away as he was) at someone outside his range of vision, throwing flowers and napkins and an assortment of ornaments around. 

In his bedroom in one of the manor’s towers, he spotted Kalluto poking at some food with a bored look on his face, scrolling monotonously on his phone. 

And… ah, there he was. Stepping out onto one of the ground floor balconies, feet bare on the cold stone, wearing a pair of purple tracksuit pants and a green tank-top, hair whipping around his face in the wind. Illumi. 

Moving fast as a bullet, jumping from tree to tree, Hisoka ran to him, perching himself on top of the railing just as Illumi moved his hair from his eyes, which immediately narrowed upon seeing the clown. 

“Hisoka.” His tone was flat, but really, Hisoka hadn’t been expecting anything else. “What are you doing here?” 

“Oh, you wound me, Illumi.” Hisoka let his gaze run appreciatively over the other man’s body, before returning it to his dark eyes. “How do you think I felt, learning second-handedly that my oldest friend was getting married? Knowing that I hadn’t been invited to such a momentous occasion?” 

Illumi sighed, but still drew closer to Hisoka, resting his elbows on the railing as he looked down at the Zoldyck grounds. 

“I don’t have friends. And I knew you’d find out anyway, so what was the point in telling you?” 

“Well, maybe I’d like to hear it from you.” Hisoka’s voice was low. 

“What for?” Illumi asked in almost a whisper, dark eyes locking with golden ones. 

“Maybe so I could put a stop to it.” 

“What.” Illumi was surprised every time at the ability of the other man to render him speechless. Hisoka smoothly jumped down from the railing, landing next to him. His hand shot out to cup his cheek, and Illumi tensed up under the other man’s warm touch. 

“Have you forgotten, Illumi? You’re mine.” 

And with extreme speed and strength, Hisoka closed the gap between them, planting his lips firmly on Illumi’s, eyes still open and boring into his lightless ones. 

It took the space of two heartbeats for Illumi to react, punching Hisoka’s face and drawing back as the other man still smiled and rubbed his cheek. 

“Ouch, Illumi. That hu-”

“Leave.” His voice was measured, trembling with barely-suppressed rage as he took a step backwards, head lowered, his hair obscuring his expression.

Hisoka took a step forward instead. “What if I don’t?” 

Illumi’s aura shot out, probably warning everyone in the house of the commotion, needles surrounding his figure as he locked his pitiless gaze upon Hisoka through his curtain of hair. 

“Leave.” 

Miraculously, thankfully, Hisoka did, jumping from tree to tree until Illumi could no longer feel his presence. He let himself relax, falling down to his knees, as he drew his aura back in. Hopefully no one would come out to ask him what had happened. 

He raised a hand to his lips. Hisoka was the only one who could affect him like this. Sometimes, and right now was definitely one of those times, he rued the day he’d met him. He looked up, the moon only a sliver in the sky. Now that he thought of it, it had also been a night like this when he had first met the man who called himself his best friend. 

* * *

  
  


Illumi looked down from the sliver of the moon he could see between the two run-down buildings. Judging by its position in the sky, it should be about two in the morning. He never carried a watch for these missions. Too noisy. 

He started off towards his job site as he mentally recapped his tasks. One of the gangs in this city had hired him to take out their rival gang. They were a bunch with weird interests, a group that operated an underground club for people with _complicated fascinations_ . Illumi hadn’t asked his grandfather to elaborate further; it wasn’t like he’d actually care. Illumi’s mission, which he _did_ care about, was to infiltrate a specific building where they’d be having their meeting, and dispose of all the members of the gang. 

Illumi came to a stop in front of the specified building, opening the door and slipping in without a sound. Slowly, he made his way through the darkened corridor until he arrived at an ajar door, through which he peeked.

 _Seven… Eight… Nine men, huh?_ Mentally going down the list of targets for this mission, he checked off each and every one of them. At least the information had been accurate. 

“That brat’s really something… it’s almost a shame that he’s probably gonna die soon,” one of the men was saying, tipping back a can of beer. 

“Still, he’s held out pretty long! Our stock usually only lasts what, two days? A week, maybe? He’s been here for over a month!” Another man was flipping through a stack of papers, a bored look on his face. “Still, he’s the last one we have left, so we’d better restock soon. Hey, help me browse through this selection.” 

“Yes, yes.” A chair being scraped against the floor as yet another man got up, stretching. “Still, that lunatic coming by today completely wiped us clean.” 

“Hey!” This from the first man, droplets of beer flying from his mouth. “Don’t talk about him like that! He’s our biggest spender!” 

“I’m just calling things by their names. Big spender or not, he’s completely…” But at this point, Illumi had gotten tired of hearing the men talk and moved in, a flurry of razor-sharp nails and dark hair. In mere moments, the room was filled with blood, and the terrified screams of dying men. 

And then, silence. 

Illumi looked around. There was no need to make this look like an accident, since the gang that hired him wanted their bodies mangled as brutally as possible. That was also why he’d let them scream, so the authorities would come quickly (although, in a city like this, that would probably still take a while). It was then, as he took stock of his surroundings, that he noticed the door. It seemed like a perfectly normal metal door, not at all out of the ordinary in this building, but something about it made Illumi uneasy. 

It wasn’t awfully easy to make Illumi uneasy. 

In order to make that feeling disappear, he approached the door, opening it gingerly. In front of him, a metal staircase stretched downward. Illumi’s uneasiness didn’t pass. The words of the gang members he’d killed, his grandfather’s look of disgust as he explained the assignment, ran through his head as he swallowed dryly… and took a step forward, starting to descend the staircase as the door shut behind him.

His feet clattered on the metal steps, his heartbeat even louder in his ears. He wasn't sure why he was doing this—his job was over and done, but he chalked it up to morbid curiosity. He reached the end of the staircase, which led to a short hallway that stopped in front of another metal door, this one larger than the one before it. It had an intimidating sort of presence, looming silently above him. He'd seen similar ones, doors designed not to keep anyone out, but to keep something in. Slowly, with a trembling hand, he reached out and undid the heavy deadbolt. The door’s hinges groaned loudly as he pried it open, as if reluctant to let him inside. Illumi pushed it open anyway, letting the light from the hallway illuminate the interior of the room.

And Illumi remembered that for everything he'd ever had to protect his siblings from, there were still thankfully some hells not even his family would put them through. 

Stepping into the dark basement—dungeon, his brain reminded him of the correct word, this was most certainly a dungeon—not even Illumi could stop the shiver that ran down his spine, every cell in his body telling him to turn tail and run, run, run and not stop until he was back home, until he was holding Killua and Alluka and even Milluki, who he hadn't hugged in some time, until he'd caressed his mother's belly and heard the heartbeat of yet another life that he'd want to protect; he was done here, in any case, his job was done... but still his feet kept shuffling forward, only the light from the open door to guide him. 

This was a place of death, but it wasn’t just that. Illumi was used to places of death and sorrow and blood and guts, but this was much more twisted, the air charged with an energy he didn't want to be surrounded by, but yet his body kept moving, drawn deeper inside by some unexplained pull. He tried not to look to the sides, to not see the bloodied chains and sharp metal instruments, to not look at the bodies and be reminded once again of the depths of human depravity, to just focus on moving forward, knowing that at the end of the room he'd find... what, exactly? 

His breath was now erratic, his heartbeat out of control, his whole body shaking, shaking as he took one more step, the clacking of his feet on the concrete floor being replaced by a nauseating squelch. 

And then, as he turned a corner at the end of the room, his body feeling like it was on autopilot, he saw him. Barely illuminated by the broken shaft of light from the door. Wrists shackled to the wall, body limp but somehow still standing upright. 

Inside Illumi's mind, some part of him hid far away from his conscious self, and someone clinical and cold took over, noting three things in quick succession without much of any emotion at all. His heartbeat slowed again. His breathing evened out. 

First off, the emaciated boy he was looking at was completely naked. Given the things he'd seen in the dungeon so far on his way here, that didn't quite surprise him, but it was still the first thing he noticed. 

Secondly, he was so covered in bruises and scrapes and grime that he couldn't be sure of what color his skin was originally.

And thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, the boy was alive, awake, and looking straight at Illumi with golden eyes that didn't betray any emotion, barring calculated interest and curiosity. 

"H—" before the boy could say anything more than the beginning of a word, his voice caught, and he began violently coughing, the chains holding him up rattling. Illumi stared. The boy spat a gob of blood on the floor, raising his head once again to meet dark eyes. "Hey there." 

Illumi took a step forward, and then another, reaching out with his hand to break the cuffs on the boy's wrists. As he did, the boy crumpled into his arms, leaving the assassin holding him up. 

"Oh, so you've come to save me, have you~? Such a dash—" Another coughing fit interrupted the boy's surprisingly melodious voice, and Illumi could feel his body shaking as he automatically began cataloguing the injuries he could see and feel (he’d spent years doing the same for his brothers). The worst one seemed to be a deep cut on the side of his abdomen, and by the smell and inflammation, it was already infected and festering. 

"Don't try to speak. Your ribs are broken, although I'm not sure how many. If you keep coughing you'll just be hurting yourself," Illumi said plainly, helping the boy to his feet and slinging one of his wasted arms over his shoulders, supporting him by his waist. 

"Ah, so he does speak~" Illumi was surprised to see a grin on the other boy's face as he spoke. His lips were dry and cracked. "You say that like hurting myself is the worst thing that could happen to me." 

Illumi didn't have an answer to that, so he just focused on starting to walk forward, the other boy dragging his feet across the floor as if learning to walk all over again. As they made their way forward in the darkened, now seemingly endless dungeon, the boy spoke again, his voice piqued with interest. 

"So, how old are you?~" Illumi thought it a strange question to be the first one he'd ask, but he supposed that if the boy had ever dreamt of being rescued, he hadn’t imagined a willowy boy barely larger than his own malnourished body who'd shown up as though conjured from the shadows themselves. 

"I'm fourteen." _And also a professional assassin, but you didn't ask that._

"Ah!~" the boy seemed strangely enraptured by that fact, his purring voice completely disconnected from the situation. "So we're the same age.~ I'm Hisoka." 

Illumi practised saying the name in silence, his tongue and lips curling around the syllables. Hi-so-ka. It was then that he noticed those bright golden eyes staring at him expectantly, and he sighed. 

"I'm Illumi." Even as he spoke, he wondered why he'd volunteered his own name so easily. Why he was even helping this particular boy escape this particular hell. The authorities would be coming sometime soon, and he really shouldn't be interacting with this situation any more than what the job required. 

But something inside him had been drawn to Hisoka since he'd stepped into the room, and Illumi clutched the boy tighter. With each step he took, he felt his fate change, morphing into something new and unexpected. 

* * *

Illumi took another step forward, slowly returning to his bedroom. He'd felt an inexorable pull towards Hisoka since before he'd even laid eyes on him. 

He stopped in his tracks. Someone was in front of him. 

“You,” he sighed, bringing a hand to his temple. “What are you doing here? I’ve already had to deal with an unpleasant encounter tonight.” 

Babirye stood in front of him, clad in a white, gold-trimmed tunic that went down to her knees, a pair of white linen pants underneath. She was barefoot, and he noticed that just as her fingers were covered in many golden rings, her feet also had golden jewelry adorning them. Her face was covered by a white veil as usual, but he could see her smile in the corners of her dark eyes. 

“Yes. I saw it.” 

“You… saw it?”

“You did shoot out your aura quite violently, you know? It just so happens that the room your lady mother has assigned to me is just above the balcony you were having your…  _ confrontation _ on.” Something about the way she’d spoken reminded Illumi of something, but he couldn’t quite place it, even as her eyes bored into his. “It’s actually quite unpleasant, to always have to be locked in this mansion.” 

“Well, soon you won’t have to anymore.” An uncomfortable mood settled between them as he spoke. Not that the mood between them was ever comfortable.

Some seconds passed before Babirye spoke up again. 

“That man… He was the only one so far, I think,” she muttered softly. Illumi raised a quizzical eyebrow. “The only one who got any kind of emotional reaction out of you.” 

Before Illumi could even start to think of an answer, she’d crossed the distance between them in half a heartbeat, raised the veil covering her face, and kissed him. In that moment, he thought he had almost figured out who she’d reminded him of, but the feeling was gone as soon as it had come. 

A few more seconds passed. Babirye drew away. 

“See?” she asked as she adjusted her veil. “Nothing. That man must be really important to you, to make you react in such an extreme way.” 

As Illumi stood there, she walked forward again, past him, as she whispered. “That’s okay though. It makes me happy, since you’re not really my true goal here.” 

Before he could ask her what that was supposed to mean, she was gone, and Illumi was once again left with his thoughts. 


	3. Readings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I get too distracted writing another fic to remember to post this at midnight? Yes. 
> 
> (also, fun fact, one of my artists for the BB was French and helped me out with this chapter by correcting my grammar in the one french sentence, so, hooray for coincidences!)

Hisoka was smiling. It always made him happy when Illumi lost control like that. A part of him couldn’t help but imagine the assassin losing control _on_ him, taking him and ravishing him and…. 

“ _Clown_.” The voice reverberated directly in his mind, as though it was a thought that had come from his own brain. For a second, he considered if it was.

“ _Come, I need to speak with you. Back at that balcony_.” The voice was female, deep and rich and with an accent he couldn’t place. 

He turned around, looking towards the place he’d left only moments before. Standing there, looking straight at him, was a person he didn’t know. A woman, clad in white and gold, her face covered by a veil, her dark, warm eyes staring straight into his own, even from so far away. 

Well, at least his curiosity was piqued. Smoothly, he made his way back to the balcony, landing in a nearby tree with barely a rustle. She was leaning on the railing, eyes moving over him with interest. 

“You called?” Hisoka smiled silkily, sitting down on the branch. 

“Yes. I am sorry for having called you ‘clown,’ but I did not know your name. I thought the alias quite befitting.” 

“It’s Hisoka.” 

“Ah, Hisoka, then. I called you to propose… an alliance of sorts.” 

The magician raised an eyebrow quizzically at this statement. “An alliance?” 

“Well…” She sighed, the powerful aura surrounding her fading a little. “I am going to give you this information telepathically, so please don’t be alarmed.” 

And before Hisoka could question that, her voice was once again reverberating through his mind. 

“ _My name is Babirye of the Amalii. I guess you would know me as Illumi’s fiancee_ .” Something in Hisoka stirred at these words, a sudden primal need to kill the offending woman. “ _Calm down. I don’t intend to marry him_.” 

“What.” The word had emerged aloud before he could stop it.

The woman in front of him sighed before continuing. “ _I have come to this estate in search of someone very dear to me. Someone who was taken from me long, long ago. However, it is practically impossible to be invited as a guest here, and I needed to be given leave to wander the grounds and manor in order to proceed with my investigation. There were rumours flying around that the Zoldycks were planning to marry off their eldest son, so I took my chance, and went to Meteor City, where I knew your lady mother would be searching first.”_

She punctuated this with an annoyed huff. 

“ _However, this plan backfired on me. Clearly, the Zoldycks are expecting me to change my mind at any second, since they’ve”—_ here there was an expletive Hisoka couldn’t understand, but which expressed a high degree of frustration before she went on—“ _locked me in the manor, under threat of the guard dog bringing me back if I so much as step on the grass.”_

“That doesn’t sound pleasant.” 

“No, it’s not,” she spoke, and smiled at him. He knew, because she had swiftly pulled down her veil, revealing her face. She was dark-skinned, young-looking, but still with that aura of power that couldn’t easily be masked. “So, Hisoka. Will you help me?” 

A beat. 

“You do know I still have no idea what you want me to do, right?” 

A pause. 

“ _But… you’ve seen my face.”_ Hisoka raised an eyebrow. “ _Oh, for the love of…_ ”

“BABIRYE!! There you are!” A tall figure burst onto the scene, her voice unmistakable. Hisoka quickly blended in with the shadows, vanishing from ordinary perception. “Oh, I was so worried you’d decided to leave! Please, come back inside, we’re having dinner now, wouldn’t you like to join us?” 

Kikyo Zoldyck was perhaps Hisoka’s least-favorite person. As she whisked the younger woman away, Babirye fixed him with her eyes, a silent entreaty, though no words were spoken in his mind before she disappeared into the manor. 

He stared at the door through which they'd gone with a glint of interest. So… he wasn't the only one here with an extramarital agenda. Now, who could she be looking for? Clearly she'd expected some sort of reaction from him upon revealing her face. 

Well, everything in its own time. For now, Hisoka decided to retire to his hotel room in a nearby city, in order to research the Zoldycks a bit further and rest a while. He began traversing the wide expanses of the mountain, thinking of the previous conversation. 

If Illumi's bride didn't want to marry him… if she would actually leave once she'd done what she came here for… then his mission would become that much easier. Still, in order to help her, he'd have to know who she was searching for. As he drew closer to the perimeter of the walls surrounding the estate, he looked down, eyes widening as a sudden grin split his face. 

Okay then. That was step one done. Now, to focus on taking Illumi away from this place, from the plans his family had for him. Even if this particular bride just so happened to want to finish her business here and leave, there was no guarantee that another bride wouldn't be procured for Illumi. Really, knowing his family, there was a high chance that that was exactly what would happen. 

So he made up his mind. Hisoka would take Illumi away from this place, help him flourish outside these walls for good. 

A soft smile rarely seen on his face settled there as he recalled that once, a long time ago, it had been Illumi who’d rescued Hisoka from a less-than-pleasant living situation… 

* * *

As Illumi opened the door at the top of the stairs, Hisoka had to shield his eyes with his arm. He hadn't seen that much light in... he'd lost track of time, but it had likely been over a month. His legs trembled, overexerted, as Illumi pulled him forward, helping him sit on a nearby chair with a gentleness that belied the strength he must've had to essentially drag Hisoka out of there. 

Not that Hisoka weighed very much right now. But still. 

"Wait here," he heard Illumi say, and then quite suddenly he was gone, leaving not even the sound of footsteps in his wake.

As his eyes got used to the lighting, and he surveyed the scene around him, he let out a low whistle. To say that a fight had occurred would be a disservice to Illumi. This was a bloodbath, a massacre, done with such style and efficacy that it made Hisoka's heart flutter. 

He settled back in the chair, closing his eyes with a lazy smile on his lips. His entire body hurt, and he couldn't feel the right side of his torso, and he was exhausted... but meeting Illumi might even make up for all that. 

"Don't fall asleep." Speaking of the boy, it seemed he'd returned. Hisoka leisurely opened his eyes, watching him walk towards him with a cardboard box in his arms. "You'll die." 

"Hmm~" he sat up in his chair, resting his elbow on his thigh and his cheek on his closed fist. It hurt, but he ignored the pain. "I'd never fall asleep with you to keep me company."

Illumi blinked, brows slightly furrowed, before moving forward and placing the box he was carrying on the table next to where Hisoka was sitting, shoving the body of a dead man off of it unceremoniously in order to do so. 

"I think this was the box where they kept their..." He seemed to be trying to find the correct word. "...victims' possessions. Maybe your clothes will still be here somewhere. In any case, you should be able to find something that will fit." 

Hisoka smiled again, slightly offended at the term 'victim', as he got up, and sauntered over to the box, which probably would've had a higher impact if he hadn't wavered after the first step, having to once again be supported by Illumi. As he scoured through the box, he stole glances at the boy next to him. 

Illumi looked like he'd been cut out from the fabric of a shadow. Besides his skin, which was unbelievably white (Hisoka was pretty pale himself), everything about him was dark, from his jet-black hair, long and straight and falling to his waist; to his clothing, black leggings and combat boots and a hoodie, which would enable him to blend in with the shadows of any darkened street; to his eyes, oh, yes, his eyes, bottomless pools of swirling darkness where Hisoka couldn't differentiate between iris and pupil.

Eyes which were now staring straight at his own, expression impossible to read. 

"Hisoka?" 

"Oh, sorry." He flashed a smile, feeling his lips crack and split from dehydration. "Got distracted looking at you.~"

"Well, don't." Illumi's voice was still flat, but Hisoka did feel him tense up slightly where he was helping him stay upright. "I don't know how long it'll take for the authorities to get here, and I'd rather be far away by that time." 

Hisoka sighed, and pulled a pair of plain jeans out of the box, along with a slightly ripped red t-shirt and a denim jacket. As he got dressed, he observed Illumi surveying the room, making sure he was not leaving any evidence behind. 

"All done." Illumi turned around, looking him over. 

"Well, you're still barefoot, and your face is a mess, but I guess it'll have to do for now." Once again, Hisoka’s arm was slung over Illumi’s shoulders, and they exited the building, Hisoka shivering in the night air.

"I wouldn't worry if I was you though. I'm pretty much a permanent mess," Hisoka added to him conversationally.

The other boy shot him a puzzled glance. "...You say really weird things, you know that?" 

"Oh!” said Hisoka, delighted. He would have blushed if he hadn’t bled most of his blood already. “Thank you!" 

They'd barely walked twenty meters from the entrance, chatting amicably, when Illumi cursed under his breath. 

"Illumi~!" Hisoka gasped with feigned shock. "I didn't take you for one to swear." 

"It's the police. They're approaching faster than I expected." With one smooth motion, Illumi swept Hisoka onto his back. "This might hurt. Don't scream."

And then he was running, faster than Hisoka would've thought possible, through alleyways and under bridges and over fences and atop roofs, and Hisoka was holding on to him with as much strength as he currently possessed (which wasn’t a lot), and Illumi was right: it _did_ hurt, all of his injuries rubbing against the other boy's back, but it was also thrilling and exhilarating. Illumi wouldn't have to worry about Hisoka screaming, except maybe in pleasure.

They must've been at least five kilometers away from the building when Illumi slowed down, somewhere on a small road in what looked like a residential area. As he took up a measured, leisurely walking pace, Hisoka settled comfortably against his back. 

"You're staying there?" Illumi shifted his hands on his thighs, readjusting Hisoka on his back. 

"Hmm~" he purred. "I don't see why I should move." 

Illumi didn't say anything more, still walking forward at the same rhythm. As he moved, Hisoka could feel something poking into his side, and prodded inside his jacket's pocket with one hand until he had located the offending object. 

"Ah!~" He grabbed the small package triumphantly, shoving it past Illumi's shoulders and in front of his face. "Want some?" 

"What's that?" he asked. 

"Bungee Gum! It's my favorite brand of chewing gum." Illumi shrugged in a 'sure, why not' sort of way, and Hisoka started unwrapping a piece. "Open your mouth then.~"

Being behind him, Hisoka couldn't see the expression on his face, but could feel that after a couple of seconds he did open his mouth, and Hisoka popped the piece of gum inside. Illumi started chewing, and Hisoka settled against his back, arms clasped together in front of the other boy's chest. 

With the rhythmic movement of Illumi's walking pace, and the constant chewing motion next to his face, Hisoka slowly drifted off, his exhaustion and injuries catching up with him. As his body went limp, he could no longer feel Illumi's slight smile next to his own face. 

* * *

Gon was woken by an annoying buzzing sound next to his ears. He raised his head from the pillow, observing distantly that it was Killua’s phone on the bed signaling a call, an unflattering picture of Leorio on the screen. 

“Mhmm… Killua… Phone…” He tried shoving the other boy, but though Killua was usually a very light sleeper, he didn’t budge. 

Gon tried to raise a hand to rub at his eyes, only to notice that one of his hands was intertwined with Killua’s, the other arm underneath the boy’s slender neck. He smiled, squeezing Killua’s hand. One of Killua’s legs was between his own, ankles hooked, and their foreheads were almost touching. 

This was nice. Killua was warm. They should sleep like this more often. Such thoughts occupied Gon’s sleepy brain at the moment, and he would have found it easy to go back to sleep, if it wasn’t for the annoying buzzing of Killua’s phone. Besides, Leorio currently had Alluka and Nanika with him, and Killua would probably want to take that call, if it was important enough for Leorio to call at… Gon squinted, looked around. Night. 

Softly, Gon nuzzled Killua’s forehead with his own. 

“Killua…” Slowly, the other boy opened his eyes, clearly still sleepy enough to not mind Gon’s proximity and contact, which would usually send him into a frenzy. “Your phone is ringing. It’s Leorio, I think.” 

Killua sat up, yawning deeply, grabbing his phone with the hand that wasn’t holding Gon’s and answering the call. 

“Hmm, yeah?” he said groggily, another yawn following. 

“KILLUA!” Damn, Leorio was loud. Gon snorted as Killua extended his arm, keeping the phone at a distance. “YOUR SISTER JUST… HER FACE… IT’S ALL BLACK AND SWIRLY!!” 

“Mhmm, yeah…” He smacked his tongue blearily. “That’s Nanika. She’s my other sister.” 

“WHAT OTHER SISTER?!?!? WHAT IS IT??” 

“She, Leorio.” His tone was of absentminded reproach. “Be nice to Nanika.” 

“But… What…” The man’s voice had lost a bit of its strength. 

“Just be nice to Alluka and Nanika. You can do it. You’re good, Leorio.” And before he could say anything more, Killua ended the call, dropping his phone on the floor and letting his head hit the pillow again. 

Gon was realizing at this point, as Killua quickly settled back into sleep with a couple of mumbled words, that there was a big chance that he’d just sleep-talked through that whole conversation. Gon was not one for wasting such chances. 

“Killua.” A whisper, spoken into the shared air they breathed.

“Mhmm.” A mumble, uttered even quieter.

“Can I hug you?” A question, softly spoken and hanging uncertainly in the air. 

“’Course.” A single word, half-formed, but to which Gon listened, and immediately pulled Killua closer, embracing him and settling the curve of his nose on top of his soft hair. 

There was a chance Killua would murder him horribly come morning. 

Gon was okay with gambling on that.

* * *

Illumi was pacing the feather-covered floor of his room. Pillows and blankets had been ripped apart, for lack of more satisfactory, fleshy targets. 

How dare Hisoka talk to him like that, proclaiming that Illumi was a possession of his? Illumi wasn't, Illumi _didn't..._

His rage didn't even allow him to complete coherent thoughts as he threw a handful of needles at the wall, which didn't break nearly as spectacularly as he'd hoped. They just stayed there, pinned to the reinforced concrete, as though mocking him. 

Sighing, he let his body fall down to the floor and stared up at the ceiling, blowing both feathers and his hair from his face as they flew up at the impact. 

Hisoka had always been a wildcard in Illumi's life. He wasn't a family member, and he wasn't a target. He was just there, constantly, pestering Illumi and dragging him off to fight strong people. Or sometimes just wanting to sit and talk over a drink, or play cards together, or overthrow the government of a small country. 

When he sensed Hisoka's aura around (and he was never sure of how the man even found him half the time) he never knew what he was about to be dragged off to do, or even why the damn clown wanted him around. Through the years since they'd met, he'd been taken to festivals, and carnivals, and concerts, and underground tournaments, and warzones, and fancy restaurants and the Hunter Exam—and to be fair, that last one _had_ proved kind of useful—but still, he didn't understand what Hisoka wanted with him. 

And yet... he'd always gone along. There was something about his presence, about the way that he carried himself through life, that brought colour into even the darkest places. Even if that colour was often the red of blood. Barring his brothers, he was the only person who could make Illumi feel so distinctly alive. No one could be indifferent to someone as unique as Hisoka, and Illumi was no exception. 

Honestly... Illumi rolled around, laying on his stomach, and began absentmindedly indenting the floor with a needle. If he was being honest with himself, he felt something almost akin to happiness whenever Hisoka showed up. His life was... pretty boring, otherwise, especially now that most of his brothers had decided to leave. 

And now... Well, now Hisoka had kissed him. Again.

As he thought on it, he felt his face warm up slightly, which was such an undignified reaction it made him want to kill something. He'd kissed people before, even if it'd been as a means to an end for a mission. His own bride-to-be had kissed him just minutes after, and he hadn't had even a sliver of the same reaction. Hisoka had kissed him before, even if it was a long time ago, and... 

Well, he'd reacted in much the same way he was reacting now. Obviously, since it had been Hisoka. 

People in general couldn't make Illumi react, but with Hisoka it was like he lost control of his emotions. And wasn't that just infuriating? 

It annoyed him. He knew he should feel something more for the person he was about to marry than for a clown that followed him around to get a reaction out of him. And that woman... what in the world did she mean by him not being her true goal here? 

He paused, noticing that he'd been carving Hisoka's name on the floor. What the hell. This was probably Hisoka's true nen ability, to worm himself inside his mind and settle there until Illumi could think of nothing else. 

And truth be told, Illumi had known that all along. Honestly, he should have killed him when he had the chance. 

* * *

The gum he was chewing had lost its flavor by the time Illumi made it back to the closest Zoldyck safe-house. It was a small studio apartment, but it still held all of the post-mission necessities he could require. 

He pulled back the covers on the bed, and carefully laid Hisoka on top of the sheets. Straightening up, he spit the chewing gum into the trash can as he tied up his hair in a ponytail. Time to get to work. 

Sharpening his hands, he cut cleanly through Hisoka's clothes, removing them gently to try to minimize friction against the battered and broken skin. He had to admit…it was bad. 

Over the course of the next couple of hours, he painstakingly cleaned and dressed each of Hisoka’s wounds. He wrapped bandages around his broken ribs, and applied ointment on the cuts. Carefully, with steady hands, he threaded a needle and carefully sewed up Hisoka’s almost torn off ear. Continuing his examination, his mouth formed into a slight frown as he noted while cleaning it that an infection had already begun in the wound on the side of his torso. 

By all means, he should be dead. These weren't the calculated wounds with preprepared recovery times given to him and his brothers by their parents. These weren't even the bruises and whipping and burns his mother would sometimes inflict in her blind rage. These were meant to hurt and break and kill without the possibility of recovery, and yet Hisoka was still here. Somehow. 

He overlooked the sleeping boy, barely an inch of him not covered in gauze. From the deep gash on his heel to the cut on his lip, Hisoka had been put back together to the best of Illumi's knowledge and ability. 

Now, it was all on Hisoka to heal. 

Illumi turned away, facing the window, as he considered the problems his choice might bring about. There were probably butlers following him already, and they would waste no time in reporting the unusual situation to his parents. But then again… how much would his parents truly care that he'd decided to go on a slight tangent with this mission? If he explained it believably—and since Killua, the one his parents actually cared about, had just entered the first phases of his training—they might not even miss him. 

He came to the conclusion that honesty was indeed the best policy. He didn’t even want to think about what might happen if his parents caught him in a lie. Grabbing a piece of paper and a pen from a nearby desk, Illumi wrote in neat handwriting. 

_Tying up some loose ends from this job._

_Illumi_

Opening the window, he whistled for a hawk. As one came, he tied the missive to its leg, and gave it specific instructions to deliver it to his father only. Usually Silva was a lot more lenient on these matters than Kikyo, who’d ask an immeasurable amount of questions. As he closed the window, Illumi looked back on Hisoka. He looked like he was peacefully sleeping, but Illumi was aware that he was fighting for his life. The next day would tell. 

He moved soundlessly, approaching the bed and throwing the covers softly over top of the resting boy. He squashed down an unbidden impulse to smooth the hair on Hisoka’s forehead as he sat down on the bed. He rubbed at his tight ponytail as he considered the way his night had gone. How had such a simple assignment turned into this? 

And yet, as he stared at Hisoka’s face, there was still something there drawing Illumi to him. He didn’t exactly know _why_ , but he wanted Hisoka to live. Carefully, as to not let the mattress groan, he curled up at the bottom of the bed, eyes still fixed on Hisoka. 

Illumi didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until he woke up with a jolt at hearing the other boy’s pained moan. He sat bolt upright, crawling over Hisoka’s body and placing a hand on his forehead… 

“As I thought…” Hisoka was running a fever. It wasn’t at all unexpected, given the infected wound on his abdomen. He jumped off the bed, seizing the medicine kit and ransacking it, trying to find antibiotics. Grabbing a pack, and filling a glass of water from the small kitchen, Illumi went back to Hisoka’s side. “Hisoka.” 

The other boy didn’t answer, just mumbled incoherently in his sleep. Or maybe it was something coherent in a language Illumi didn’t know? He didn’t quite care. 

“Hisoka. You need to take these pills. They’ll help bring your temperature down.” As he spoke, Illumi tried to move Hisoka’s hair, which was plastered against his forehead, without much success, given the other boy’s thrashing. 

“ _J’ai mal…_ Don’t want to…” Hisoka threw his head to the side, away from Illumi, who was now unsuccessfully trying to pry open Hisoka’s mouth without actually hurting him. 

As Hisoka writhed on the bed, Illumi could feel his patience running out as though there was a blinking bar next to his face like in those games Milluki liked to play. He'd thrust his hand out, and Hisoka would dodge with his face. Illumi would try to hold his head down with one hand, but the other boy had a surprising amount of strength for someone who was half dead and feverish. And so, as though the bar next to his face had just completely emptied, Illumi was done. 

"Okay, that's it, you annoying, ungrateful…" Illumi positioned the pills inside his own mouth, breaking them apart into smaller chunks with his molars. Holding Hisoka's head down with _both_ his hands, and using his own torso to prevent him from squirming too hard, Illumi moved the crushed pills to the tip of his tongue and placed his mouth on top of Hisoka's, pushing the antibiotics inside his mouth with his tongue. 

Rising up, and using his knee alongside his right hand to hold Hisoka's mouth closed, he grabbed the nearby glass of water with his left hand, took a swig, and went back down, passing the water to Hisoka. As the water touched his parched lips, he began to swallow, drinking it alongside the pills. 

“There. Done.” He rose up, passing a leg over Hisoka’s body as he got off the bed. If Hisoka had been awake, he’d probably have compared Illumi’s figure to that of a ballerina, or maybe just said ‘long leggy’. However, Hisoka was still unconscious, breathing hard and occasionally groaning. Having given him the antibiotics, there was nothing else Illumi could do for him now. 

He made his way inside the small bathroom attached to the studio’s main room, and took a quick look at his face in the mirror. A look of annoyance was etched in his features, and it wasn’t hard to guess why. Annoyance at Hisoka, annoyance at the job for placing him in his life, annoyance at himself for getting involved in this mess. With a sharpened finger, he cut the elastic holding his hair, letting the blood-matted dark curtain fall over his shoulders and face. He hated the sensation of greasiness and uncleanness on his hair, and it made him want to scratch his head until it bled. However, he knew this wouldn't be very fruitful, so he chose to take a shower instead. Maybe he’d get some food afterwards; he was getting kind of peckish. 

He undressed, dropping the bloodied clothes on one corner on the small bathroom, and climbed in the shower, turning on the water and letting the hot (too hot, almost scalding) stream clean the blood away, relieving a bit of his discomfort. But some still remained. A gnawing feeling in his stomach that he had done something very wrong, something he'd be punished terribly for. 

As he cleaned himself, he thought of the teachings his parents had always imparted to him. _You mustn't make friends. You mustn't get attached. There is only family, and targets. Nothing else._ Nothing else. Nothing else. And yet, now there was Hisoka. As of yet, a secret, like his name suggested. Not a target, but certainly not family. 

It was wrong. Illumi knew it in the depths of his soul, and it was the source of his discomfort. He shouldn't have taken Hisoka. He shouldn't have cared for him. And now he was feeling guilty over it. 

And then… A solution came to his mind, just as he was turning off the water and grabbing a towel. Of course. The solution was simple and easy. He'd just kill Hisoka. Then there would be no need to feel bad anymore. It would just be like none of this had ever happened. 

Illumi exited the bathroom, towel wrapped around his slim waist. With inaudible footsteps, he approached the bed. The whole studio was quiet, free of the moaning that had pervaded it just minutes earlier. 

… _Quiet?_ His heartbeat sped up as he rushed to Hisoka's side, worried something had happened to the boy while he was showering. But instead, he was greeted with the sight of Hisoka sleeping peacefully. His skin, still glistening from sweat. His hair, still laying limply on his forehead. His chest, slowly rising and falling as breath escaped and was retrieved through lips slightly cracked and parched. 

Illumi let out a relieved sigh he didn't know he was holding as he held a hand against Hisoka's forehead. It seemed the medicine had worked and his fever had gone down. That was good. 

He walked to one of the dressers that held some spare clothing of his, nimbly getting dressed in a pair of jeans and a tank top. He moved towards the kitchenette, filling a jar with water and putting it down on the nightstand next to the glass of water already there. All good now; if Hisoka woke up he'd have water nearby. 

As he laced up his sneakers, he considered what kind of food he should get. Maybe sushi. Illumi didn't usually particularly care about food, but he'd always appreciated the clean lines and taste of the rolls and cuts of fish. 

Such thoughts occupied his mind as he exited the apartment, and then the building.

Illumi was already halfway down the street when he remembered he was supposed to have killed Hisoka. 

_Oh well. Might always do it when I come back._

* * *

That…hadn't really worked out. Time after time Illumi had thought about killing Hisoka, removing the pestering presence in his life once and for all, but when push came to shove, he never had. Hisoka always walked the tightrope between annoying and murder-worthy, never really falling off enough for Illumi to actually do anything. 

And at this point, he wasn't sure he really even could kill Hisoka if he wanted to. Sure, there was the battle part to consider, but they were pretty evenly matched in terms of physical prowess, and when it came to _nen_ , no one could really say which way the chips would fall. 

But Hisoka was just a part of Illumi's life, a fixture that he wasn't sure would even make sense to remove. After all, if he did… What exactly would he be left with? 

Illumi got up from the floor, once again completely unsure of what time it was, but suddenly exhausted. He made his way to his bed, still unmade, laying on it without even bothering to pull up the covers. 

This dark room was a good enough metaphor for his life, he supposed. A dark room, a dark life. He once lived for his brothers, but that task was done. They were all strong enough, and for the most part, far away enough that his mother's wrath couldn't affect them. 

In that dark room, without even light to judge his thoughts, Illumi let himself wonder. Could there be any other purpose to his life? Could there actually be... something he'd like to do, besides just the family work dished out to him? What was even the point of carrying on the Zoldyck bloodline? 

And then there was Hisoka. In the dark room that was his life, once the lamps that were his brothers had slowly been turned off one by one, he was the only light that remained. A neon, disco ball shaped, multicoloured, headache-inducing light, but still. Light. 

Hisoka had asked him, a long time ago: _What do you want to do?_ And Illumi had not been able to reply. So Hisoka had taken him to places the world over, had had him tag along on murder sprees and museum exhibits, and boat rides and gladiator fights, and so much more. And sometimes, when he seemed particularly bored, he'd ask him again. _Anything you want to do?_ And Illumi had never been able to reply.

Sleep was starting to overtake him, the boundaries between rational thought and dreams he'd never let himself think about starting to break down. If he could… If he truly could… maybe he'd just wish to be by Hisoka's side all the time. Maybe he'd even find something he'd want to do. And even if not… at least it wouldn't be boring. 

That night, Illumi dreamt about fluorescent rivers of blood, flowing endlessly from every pore of his body. 


	4. Vows

Killua's eyelids fluttered open. Where…? His room? Wha… Ah, that's right. He'd come here with Gon for Illumi's wedding. 

Gon. 

GON. 

His mind suddenly awake and processing information at lightning speed, Killua scrutinized his current situation. His body was being enveloped by Gon's, strong arms wrapped around his lithe back. He couldn't figure out exactly how their legs were entangled, but Killua could feel Gon's foot caressing his calf with every breath he took.

One of Gon's hands was on the back of Killua's neck, fluffy silver hair between his fingers, while another was made into a fist holding Killua's t-shirt. Every time he exhaled, Killua could feel his warm breath on the tops of his ears. 

And then, as though it was the cherry on top of Killua best/worst awakening ever, right in front of his face was Gon’s neck, a wide expanse of soft, tanned, vulnerable skin that made Killua swallow drily. 

All things considered, Killua was suddenly paying a lot of attention to Gon’s breathing. Ebbing and flowing steadily and consistently… Still sleeping, even as he held Killua tight enough to break someone else’s bones. 

_ What the fuck.  _

Killua could feel his body heating up, his skin uncomfortably reactive wherever Gon was touching him. The air around him under the blanket felt too warm and muggy, smelling distinctly of Gon’s musky, earthy scent. All his senses were being overtaken by Gon’s proximity, and Killua felt acutely overwhelmed. He let his head fall forward, resting his forehead on Gon’s collarbone, inhaling deeply despite himself. There wasn’t any running away from the truth here, smashed together with him, not that there ever had been even when they were on opposite sides of the world. 

“Even after everything…” The voice that escaped his lips was barely a whisper, spoken into the warm, dark space between their bodies. “After all the pain… All you did and said to me… All you didn’t…” 

Killua’s own hand was grasping at the fabric of Gon’s sleeveless shirt as his voice wavered.

“You’re no longer my entire world. But goddamnit. Godamnit. I still want your selfish ass to be a very big part of it. Even after all the crap we’ve been through, or maybe because of it, I still…” His voice broke, as the last part of what he wanted to say died in his throat. 

For some minutes, silence fell on the room, and then Gon shifted, squeezing Killua so firmly his face was jammed against Gon’s neck. 

“Gon! What the hell, you idiot?!” Killua flailed, pushing Gon away as he sat up. “Are you  _ trying _ to kill me?” 

"Killua." Gon smiled at him as he sat up as well. "Good morning!" 

"Don't 'good morning' me, you almost broke all my ribs! I'm not entirely sure you didn't actually break a…"  _ couple.  _ The remainder of Killua's sentence was swallowed when a heavy rumble reverberated from Gon's stomach. 

"Killua! I'm hungry!" 

"Yes, I can hear that." Killua sighed as he got up from bed, stretching long limbs. "Actually, we didn't even have dinner yesterday. No wonder we're ravenous." 

Gon followed him, getting up from bed, rolling aching shoulders. Killua tried, and failed miserably, not to stare at the compressing and expanding muscles in his arms and shoulders. 

"But your stomach isn't rumbling, Killua." Gon turned to look at him, sending a flush of pink to his cheeks. 

"Well, of course not. What kind of assassin would have a rumbling stomach?" 

They moved toward the door as they talked, going downstairs to the kitchen. 

"But Killua, you're not an assassin anymore," Gon proclaimed matter-of-factly. "You're a Hunter." 

"I guess. But that's not really the sort of thing you relearn after it's been beaten out of you." As they went down the stairs, Killua noticed that Gon had suddenly stopped, and turned around. "Gon?" 

The other boy had frozen mid step, but quickly shook his head and looked back to Killua. "Uhn-uhn. It’s nothing.” He jumped a couple steps to land next to him. 

As they walked to the kitchen, they talked about nothing of much importance, wondering how Alluka was doing, and whether Leorio had freaked out already. 

As they sat down at the kitchen table, Gon let out an exclamation. 

"Wait, Killua, you don't remember?" 

"... What, exactly?" Killua reached for a plate of conveniently placed waffles, piling them up on his plate. 

"Leorio called last night." Gon reached for the bacon and fried eggs, sliding them onto his plate. 

"Mhrugfl—Wha?!" he exclaimed through a mouthful of waffles and chocolate sauce, before quickly swallowing. "Why didn't you tell me?!" 

Gon stared at Killua for a short while, but Killua was too peeved to react in any entertaining manner. 

"So?" 

"You picked up the phone, Killua. Last night, when Leorio called." Gon ate a strip of bacon, chewing thoughtfully. "Had a conversation with him and everything." 

Killua was prevented from asking Gon what the fuck he was on by the entrance of an unexpected third party into the kitchen. 

“Oh, hey there brother," Killua greeted nonchalantly with a lazy wave of his fork. 

" Killua?! " Milluki had gone white as a sheet, small eyes darting between the two of them as though wondering if it would be safe to approach the waffles. "What are you doing here? When did you get back? Why the heck is  _ he  _ here? And why are you two eating  _ my _ breakfast?!" 

"What do you think we're doing here, Bro? We came for Illumi's wedding." 

"Oh, that's this weekend?" 

"You didn't notice all the flurry about the house?" 

Milluki, resigned to the fact that the boys weren't about to stop eating his breakfast, sat down at the table alongside them, chair groaning in protest under his substancial weight. 

"I don't really leave my room enough for that." Milluki piled up some food on his plate before continuing. "Speaking of that, you didn't bring…" 

His voice dropped to a whisper as he looked both ways before talking. But before he could complete his sentence, Killua shot him an icy look. 

"Are you mental, or just an idiot? I would die before bringing Alluka back here." 

"And why did you bring  _ him? _ Mom is going to be upset." Milluki pointed at Gon with the tip of his fork. 

"Big whoop. Who cares if that woman gets upset?" Killua continued to eat his breakfast, even though he'd lost a bit of his appetite with Milluki's arrival. "Anyway, tell us something interesting about this wedding." 

"How would I know? I've been keeping far away from all that mess." Milluki paused, chewing thoughtfully. "Although… There is one weird thing." 

"Oh really? Do share your brilliant observations, brother," Killua proclaimed mockingly. 

"Illu-nii," he said matter-of-factly.

"Eh?" both Gon and Killua let out a similar exclamation amid the food stuffing their mouths. 

"Illu-nii's been acting weird ever since this whole wedding thing started." Another pause. "Well, weirder than usual, I guess. I mean…" 

Milluki got up, moving to the counter to start the coffee machine, preparing some sugar- and cream-filled monstrosity Killua was totally gonna steal later.

"First you leave. Then Kalluto goes after you. Then you return and take Alluka with you. Then Kalluto suddenly decides he's having way too much fun with that weird group and decides to stay with them and leave the family. And then mom springs the whole wedding and marriage thing on Illumi." 

Milluki stirred his "coffee", while Killua got up in order to get some for himself. 

"I guess it was just too much? I mean, you know Illumi, he's a control freak. And all of a sudden, he lost control of basically everything. I guess he just had to, for the first time ever, actually consider his life and future." 

"Hmmm…" Killua pondered. He couldn't really imagine his brother doing anything resembling introspection. He took a sip of his sugary concoction. "That… Does sound strange." 

"Yeah. The other day I was talking to him about actual important stuff, like some new tech I'd developed for an assassination he was gonna carry out, and he spaced out and didn't listen to what I was saying.  _ About a job."  _ Milluki emphasised his last sentence with waves of his spoon. "He's been acting real weird. Sleeping at odd hours too. He's always had that down-to-the-second sleep schedule, and suddenly I've been finding him wandering the halls in the wee hours of the morning, looking like a ghost haunting up the place. Almost gave me a heart attack."

“Nah, I’m pretty sure that was the cheeseburgers.” Killua flashed his brother a toothy grin, which was surprisingly ignored. 

“He actually turned to me once, during one of those times I ran into him in the middle of the night, and asked me if I was happy.”

That… gave Killua pause. 

“What?” 

“I know, right? Since when has Illu-nii cared whether I, or any of us for that matter, am happy?” Milluki seemed shocked even as he retold the story. 

“And?” Gon spoke for the first time in a while, voice brimming with curiosity. “What did you answer?” 

“Told him that yeah, of course I’m happy. This brat might have told you otherwise”—he jabbed a thumb at Killua— “but the whole assassination shtick is actually a pretty comfy job. We have loads of money, plus this huge mansion, and all we have to do is follow the orders we’re given. And then once the old people bite the dust, this will all be ours. Well, it was supposed to be  _ yours, _ actually, Killu, and now I guess it’s going to Illu-nii. But I don’t mind just continuing to do what I’ve always done, and do my job properly. I don’t mind it one bit.”

“Well some of us actually want to be human beings and not dogs chasing after their master.” Killua plastered the most innocent looking smile on his face as he glowered at Milluki. 

And so another morning began in the Zoldyck mansion, with the two brothers arguing about security and freedom over coffee as Gon watched on, mildly amused. 

* * *

In the closest town to the Zoldyck mansion, abuzz with excitement and filled with tourists for the upcoming event (rumors travelled, even when they were pertaining to the deadliest family in the world), there was a room in an inn being rented out. 

Inside that room sat Hisoka, currently busy building a gigantic tower of cards. Some would say that would reflect how bored he was, but truly, it was a mindless activity that occupied his hands and allowed him freedom to think. 

That morning, he'd taken over the job of a bus driver for a quick route to the mountain, employing a wide-brimmed cowboy hat to hide his easily recognizable face from anyone who might spot him, trying to gather any information he could, but there hadn't really been any gain from that venture. After getting a quick bite to eat, he considered his plans. 

Tomorrow was the wedding, and he was going to crash it. But first, he'd have to take care of Babirye's request, so that she would step aside and let him take Illumi. 

And then… Hisoka paused, a card in his hand halfway to its place on the pyramid. Then, Illumi would have to choose. His family, or Hisoka. 

Last time the dark haired assassin had made that choice… Hisoka had come out on the losing side. 

* * *

Hisoka blinked his eyes open, head heavy and body languid, and somehow strangely itchy. Scanning the room, he took note of the fact that he was in a simple, run-down studio apartment with a strangely comfortable bed. From the single window he could see the rising sun between two buildings, and a hawk nestled on the windowsill. 

He tried to move, maybe testing his ability to get up, but it was futile. Any movement caused pain to shoot all the way up his spine, and as much as he usually appreciated a little pain here and there, he wasn't appreciating it much at the moment. 

He remembered Illumi carrying him on his back; remembered the wind and the crisp, cold air of the city filling his lungs; remembered the rocking movement as Illumi walked; and then… nothing, really, just flashes of dark eyes and long hair and the refreshing sensation of water filling his mouth alongside the smooth texture of… something. 

Had Illumi…  _ kissed  _ him? Hisoka smiled devilishly, the thought exciting him. This had just become interesting. 

As though following his train of thought, the door in front of him opened, revealing Illumi returning, hands full of plastic bags, from which an enticing smell wafted. Their eyes met as the dark-haired boy closed the door behind him, moving towards the kitchenette counter and dropping the bags there. 

“Would you believe that there isn’t a single sushi place in this whole city?” Illumi seemed, for the first time in the short while Hisoka had known him, to be slightly upset. “I brought some pizza, and some burgers, and soup too, since I had no idea if you’d be able to eat solid food yet. I wasn’t expecting you to be awake already.”

Illumi was eyeing him with a certain curiosity, almost like he wanted to cut him open and see what made him tick, what exactly he was made of that allowed him to apparently recuperate this much faster than expected. 

“I think I can manage food. I still know how to work my mouth.” Hisoka shot Illumi a devious grin, even if it made his face hurt. 

Swiftly, Illumi prepared a tray with the food he’d brought, arranging the different items with almost surgical precision, a symmetrical array of carbohydrates and fats and sugars and… soup. Bringing it to Hisoka, he perched himself on the bed, placing the tray between them and grabbing a burger. 

Hisoka watched the other boy eat, enraptured. He took a bite, chewed methodically, and swallowed. Every third bite, he’d take a swig of water. Occasionally, when his hair fell into his face, he’d reach out and tuck it back behind his ear, the only movement that would interrupt his hypnotic meal. 

And then, the next time a strand of hair came loose, Hisoka reached out himself, almost on instinct, and grabbed it between his fingers. It was exactly as soft and silky as he’d expected. He tucked it behind Illumi’s ear himself, letting his hand linger on the other boy’s face as his dark eyes bored into his golden ones, a question hanging there even as his hands paused in midair in the act of bringing food to his mouth. 

“Why did you save me?” the words that came out of Hisoka’s mouth were almost a whisper, as though he was afraid something would break if he spoke them louder. Maybe something  _ had _ broken, as he felt Illumi stiffen under his touch. 

Illumi’s lips moved, but no words came out. 

“I didn’t quite catch that.” 

“I…” The voice that came of Illumi’s mouth was barely a whisper, steeped in horror and fear. “I don’t know.” 

There was a pause, as Illumi returned the half-eaten hamburger he had in his hands to the tray. 

“I just… It just happened. I was there, and you were there, all  _ broken _ , and suddenly I was carrying you back, and…” The words got lost somewhere amidst the rising panic in Illumi’s voice. 

“So… No real reason?” Illumi’s wide eyes shot up at Hisoka’s matter-of-fact, almost amused voice. “I mean, that’s alright, I just thought you might want to sell me again to someone else.” 

“Wh-what do you mean it’s alright?” The panic was crawling up Illumi’s throat, coming out in waves in the sentences he spoke. “It’s the very opposite of alright! I just did something without any reason for it! I did it just because I  _ felt like it _ ! Don’t you understand?!”

“Hmm… No.” Hisoka blinked, unsure of how to respond to the other boy’s immense panic. “I only ever do things because I feel like doing them.” 

This at least seemed to bring Illumi out of his horror. 

“What? How do you live like that?” Illumi was staring wide-eyed at Hisoka, the terror that seemed to have dominated his face replaced by simple curiosity as he regarded the other boy.

“Well… As you saw, I almost didn’t. So… thanks, I guess. For getting me out of there.” For a moment, the aura of effusiveness that Hisoka usually wore seemed to melt away, just as Illumi’s control had, and for a short while, they were just two hurt boys trying to make sense of a strange situation. Illumi sat back on the bed, grabbing his burger once more and resuming his methodical eating, as Hisoka grabbed a cup of soup, and silence reigned temporarily. 

After that day, they settled into a sort of routine. Illumi would change Hisoka’s wound dressings, get him food and water, and otherwise try to train while being incessantly pestered by the other boy, who seemed to want to know everything about him. It got worse once Hisoka was able to get up and move around, always getting up in Illumi’s face and trying to fluster him with questions. 

Over time, he ended up telling Hisoka about a lot. About his family of assassins, about his brothers, about how he was the eldest of them, and therefore shouldered so much of the responsibility. And then, one random evening, as Illumi was laying on the bed, trying to read a book detailing the capture of a famous serial killer, as Hisoka built a card tower on the floor, he was asked yet another question.

“So, there’s something I don’t get.” 

“Hmm.” Illumi’s response was about as non-committal as he could manage, but he was already prepared to put his book down, putting a bookmark between the pages, since something told him this would be a long conversation. 

“Your younger brother—Killua, was it?—is the one that’s going to become the head of the household, right?” 

“Yes, that’s right.” Illumi put his book down, eyes meeting Hisoka’s.

“Then why do you care so much about your family?” 

He blinked, uncomprehending. “What?” 

“I mean, you always talk about your missions, and you talk about the things your brothers like, like how Milluki likes videogames, and how Killua always does so well on his training, and about your parents, and your grandparents... but I’ve never once heard you talk about what  _ you _ like or what  _ you _ want to do!” 

“That’s because… my job is to look after my brothers. That’s all.” Illumi looked away, towards the sun setting in the distance. 

“See, but that’s exactly it!” Before Illumi could react, Hisoka had jumped over the bed frame, landing squarely on top of the limber boy. “What happens after?!” 

“After? After what?” Illumi found Hisoka’s golden eyes boring straight into his, his face framed by messy pink hair and once-gaunt cheeks now a little more filled out. 

“When your brothers grow up, when Killua takes over the family, what will you do?” 

“I’ll continue working for the family, doing whatever assignments I receive.” 

Hisoka let his head fall, his forehead hitting Illumi on his ribs. Before he could complain though, he’d already launched into a tirade. 

“That’s boooooring though. I don’t care about that!” Hisoka marginally raised his head, chin still resting on Illumi’s chest. “I’m asking about  _ you. _ What do you want to do?” 

Illumi froze, the unexpected question leading to a shutdown in processing capabilities. It was such an absurd question, he couldn’t even understand its meaning. 

“I don’t understand that question,” Illumi replied matter-of-factly. 

He blinked. Hisoka blinked back. 

“What. Do. You. Want. To. Do. I’m not asking for your life plans, just, like, stuff you’d like to do.” 

Illumi blinked again. He opened his mouth, and immediately closed it once more. There was no answer he could give. 

“I just…” After a few moments, he chose to try again, voice wavering slightly. “I just want to be there for my brothers, help raise them, protect them, and do the best I can for my fami-” 

“ _ That’s bullshit! _ ” For once, Hisoka seemed enraged, rising up supported by his arms and propelling himself until only a few centimeters separated his face from Illumi’s. “I’ve seen how scared you are, when you do anything you think your parents are going to disapprove of. I’ve seen how you look out the window after a falcon flies off. I’ve been  _ watching _ you, Illumi, and you can’t hide from me.”

“You don’t know shit about me.” Illumi tried shoving Hisoka off, but the other boy was faster, hands pinning Illumi’s wrists to the bed. In a rare moment of expressiveness, he could see emotion burning in his eyes, fury and animosity and… Was that fear? “Let go of me,” Illumi commanded, almost burning his wrists as he turned them furiously in Hisoka's hold, voice sharp and with a hint of desperation he hadn’t intended.

“What if I don’t?” 

Illumi raised his leg, kicking Hisoka squarely in the middle of his stomach, immediately regretting it as he felt the gash on his abdomen open back up, and then squashing down that feeling of regret itself. Hisoka flew backwards, landing on the floor, from which he swiftly moved up to a sitting position, clasping his midriff. 

“What the fuck, Illumi? I thought we were friends.”

“I have no friends.” 

He raised one eyebrow dubiously. “Another thing you’ve been told by your family?” 

“Yes.” Illumi sighed, getting up from the bed. “I should’ve just left you there. I should’ve just killed you.” 

“Yeah?” Hisoka slowly got up, one arm still holding on to his stomach. “Why don’t you try that now then?”

Illumi steadily moved towards Hisoka. His father had told him to only use Nen during his training, since it was such an unstable power in the beginning, but he didn’t much care right now. He needed to hurt Hisoka, and Nen was the easiest way to do it at the moment.  Illumi approached the other boy, the still-unfamiliar and foreign sensation of power filling up his body making his hair stand on end , but before he could strike, the other boy moved with a speed that belied his injuries, once again invading Illumi’s breathing space. 

“However… I’d rather not have to kill you just now. I can sense it, y’know, the immense power that flows in you right now. I’ve sensed it before, in other people, but never has it been so close…”  Illumi wasn't sure he liked the look in Hisoka's eyes when he said that. He looked eager. Anticipatory. Almost...  _ hungry _ **.** “Maybe one day we’ll fight, and it will be exhilarating, but for now, I’d rather just take you… and your mysterious power.” 

And before Illumi could react, could even think about reacting, Hisoka had closed the distance between them, grabbing Illumi by the collar of his top and kissing him fiercely. Almost immediately, the assassin could feel his Nen invading Hisoka, breaking him open and filling him to the brim, an experience he remembered from his own Nen awakening as not being exactly pleasant. Not that you could ever tell by the way Hisoka clasped on to Illumi, as though he wanted to absorb every drop of energy he might contain. 

When Illumi managed to react, it was by jumping backwards onto the ceiling, hanging in the corner and resembling an agitated spider. 

“What…” His voice was trembling, a very strange departure from his usual tone, and one he didn’t particularly enjoy. “What did you…” 

“I kissed you.” Hisoka rolled his shoulders, the aura coming out of his body in waves slowly subsiding as he flexed his fingers. “Ooh, this is nice. So this is that Nen thing, huh?” 

“Why?!” The voice that escaped him was shriller than Illumi would have liked, his whole body assaulted by emotions he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt before. 

“I like you, Illumi. I want to keep you around. You’re amusing.” Hisoka paused for a second, as though considering something. “Besides, you were the one who kissed me first.” 

“That was… different,” he insisted. “It was purely for practical reasons.” 

“Oh, I have no doubt of that. Which is exactly why I wanted to show you how it  _ should _ be done.” 

Illumi slowly slid off the wall, still keeping his distance. 

“Are you going to do it again?” he asked warily.   
  
“Why? Would you like me to?” An impish grin spread across Hisoka’s face as he inched imperceptibly closer to Illumi. 

“No, I would rather you didn’t. I might actually kill you if you do.” Illumi had forced the words back into his usual apathetic tone, although his heart was still beating uncomfortably fast.

“Aww. Guess I’ll have to get stronger then.” With that, Hisoka turned around, walking, almost  _ sauntering _ towards the door to the small apartment. He opened it, looking back once again at Illumi. “See you around, Illumi. I’ll find  _ you _ , next time.” 

“No need.” 

Hisoka smiled hugely as he left the apartment. 

“Oh, but I will.” The door closed softly behind his disappearing voice.

* * *

As the door closed behind him, Hisoka considered his next steps. There were less than 24 hours before Illumi’s wedding, and he had a mission to fulfill. As he left the inn, running towards Kukuroo mountain, he considered why Illumi had always been such a fixation for him. 

In the beginning, it had been curiosity. After being rescued from certain death by this strange, sullen boy, Hisoka couldn’t help but wonder what tragedy could create someone like Illumi, when an entirely different set of tragedies had resulted in a person like himself. And then, slowly, as he got to know the other boy, he realized the constant, smothering atmosphere that surrounded him; the constant need of approval from his parents, an approval that would never be given to him. And so Illumi had grown into a dark man, and it was all Hisoka could do to forcibly inject some color into his life. 

And so, curiosity turned into compassion. Something about Illumi drew Hisoka to him: the way he carried himself as though his body was weightless; the way he could dispassionately threaten to murder you for eating his food, but would passionately threaten you if you threatened his family (the only thing, Hisoka quickly found out, that could move Illumi); the way he spoke, at the same time monotone and soft; the way he looked at the sky when he thought no one was watching; the way his hair flowed (Hisoka had once drunkenly made the mistake of actually telling Illumi that, and the next time he saw him he’d chopped all his hair off); the way he’d murder an entire battalion while still looking graceful and sublime. Oh yeah, and also the way he could basically murder anyone, anytime.

And so, compassion had turned into competition. Illumi was strong, after all, there was no denying it, and Hisoka had always been drawn to powerful people, had always based his goals on those he could defeat and those he would die trying to. And Illumi seemed to always be his destined opponent, the one he’d take down in their final glorious battle. Or maybe, he’d consider in his more heroic mental tangents, the person he’d die saving from an opponent Illumi couldn’t fight, finally paying back the debt that had been created all those years ago.

And as Hisoka recently found himself having these thoughts more frequently than those where he’d murder Illumi, found himself once again noticing all the same things with renewed vigor and need, competition turned into craving. He found himself wanting to spend more time with the assassin, taking more and more detours to meet up with him, and when the news came (not directly, even; he found out simply because of how much he’d been stalking him lately) that Illumi was getting married, it was all Hisoka could do not to storm inside the Zoldyck mansion and kill everyone inside. After all, that might actually be kind of a lethal choice. 

He  _ wanted _ Illumi, maybe more than he’d ever wanted anything in his want-filled life. And he wanted Illumi to choose him over his family, wanted Illumi for once in his life to choose something for himself… and for that something to be Hisoka’s company. And preferably also his bed. 

So here he was now, jumping over the wall towards the Zoldyck grounds (honestly, the whole “guard dog coming after you if you didn’t use the gates” thing didn’t really work when you were several magnitudes stronger than the pup), jumping from tree to tree towards his target. First things first, time to—diplomatically, for once—get rid of the competition. Kind of a bummer though. Hisoka had really wanted to fight her. 


	5. The Exchange

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting at midnight is cool, but y'know what else is cool? Sleep.

Canary was standing guard outside the Zoldyck grounds. This, by itself, wasn’t really unusual… It was kind of her job and all. The sun was shining annoyingly bright in the sky, and she raised a hand to protect her eyes as she looked upwards to the sky. She breathed in, smelling the forest, the leaves, bubblegum, the dirt, the flowers, the… 

She looked around, stabbing her baton into the ground in front of her. Bubblegum was not a usual scent for the mountain to possess. As she did so, she noticed the air had become suffocating, sickeningly sweet and cloying. 

“Oh?~ So you can sense me.” A voice drifted from the trees, mellow and taunting. 

“It would be hard not to.” She gripped her baton tighter, trying to pinpoint the source of the voice. “What business do you have here? I must advise you that the Zoldyck family doesn’t take kindly to uninvited guests.” 

“I shouldn’t have to worry, then. Right now, I don’t have business with the Zoldycks.” 

Before Canary could question the invader on his motivations, she felt a sticky substance glue itself over her mouth, trapping all her words. The same substance wrapped itself around her ankles and wrists, binding her quicker than she could react. Soon, she was being thrown up into the air, landing upon a lilac-clad shoulder in seconds. Her vision swam. 

Hisoka looked around, trying to see if anyone had noticed his quick retrieval of the Zoldycks’ butler. No movement seemed incoming. Only Canary’s baton was left on the ground, and even that was recovered using Bungee Gum, which possessed the properties of both rubber and gum. With baton in one hand and butler hoisted on the other shoulder, Hisoka made his way back to the small town from whence he came, facing the sunset with a devious grin.

_ “Target retrieved. Guess it’s time to get a tux.” _

* * *

It hadn’t been a particularly useful day for Killua and Gon. It was… kind of hard to stop a wedding when you couldn’t find any of the people involved. In the ceremony hall, the only person they could find had been his mother, and they’d both hightailed it out of there before she could notice their presence. 

As they caught their breath in the entry hall, not yet sure of where to go next, a butler approached them, and Killua couldn’t help the small frown that snuck onto his face as his eyes met cooly regarding, if slightly wide ones. He’d never vibed too well with Amane, for as much as she was one of the few butlers close to his age. 

“Killua-sama.” she bowed to him, and then gave a slight nod towards Gon, who just blinked back at her as he nodded, clearly unsure of what to think of the woman so far. “I’ve got a message for you, from your father.” 

A sort of choked sound escaped Killua’s throat before he could contain it. He’d  _ thought  _ he and Gon were being sneaky and careful, but maybe, just maybe, trying to stop a widely anticipated event in a house full of professional assassins and their butlers had been a bit of a tall order. 

“He wants you to head up to your grandfather’s office at your earliest convenience.” Amane continued, barely missing a beat. That part was surprising at least, usually when his father summoned him, he called Killua up to his… honestly, even now Killua was unsure of how to describe the place, since “office” clearly wasn’t it. Throne room? Governing dungeon? Creepy ass metal box of doom? At least his grandfather had a normal office, even if one could call it slightly too extravagantly decorated. 

“Yeah, no problem, I’ll be there.” Killua answered dismissively.  _ Why _ would his father want to talk to him in grandpa’s office?

“Killua-sama.” Amane continued, and Killua met her eyes uncomfortably. “You are meant to bring your companion along.” 

Oh.

Oh  _ no.  _

Oh no, no, no, no, no. Killua turned in horror towards Gon, who still had the most endearingly confused look on his face as he looked between Amane and Killua. He turned back towards Amane, who sadly didn’t provide much in the way of comfort or explanation. 

Oh, this was not going to be fun. Killua sunk to the floor, sitting with his head in his hands between his knees.

“Killua?” Gon’s voice was questioning and worried as he reached out a hand to place on his shoulder. “Why is this such a big deal?” 

Killua raised his head, blue eyes locking with brown ones, and he could see from the corner of his vision Amane shifting uncomfortably in front of them. 

“It’s not… It’s not a big deal.” Killua tried to play it off, but he was pretty sure his performance was absurdly poor. “It’s just going to be super  _ boring _ , y’know, and probably more than slightly awkward, and what does he even want to talk about, why does Father even want you there, and what if—”

_ What if he doesn’t like you?  _

Suddenly, Killua felt a wave of fear rush over him at the thought of his father not approving of Gon. His father had always been the most  _ sane  _ person in his immediate family, the only one who was kind of okay with him leaving, the only one Killua could actually try to have a dialog with. 

And Gon was… Gon was one third of  _ everything _ to Killua, not in third place, but in the shared space of his heart he’d once never known could expand like that. He’d followed Gon to hell once, and he probably would do it all over again if asked. 

And now, staring into his eyes, Killua was unable to form into words exactly why this was, as Gon had put it, such a big deal.

“Um… Killua-sama...” Thankfully, rescue came in the form of a slightly hesitant call from Amane. She was growing on him. “There is one more matter I’d like to discuss with you.” 

She glanced furtively around, before crouching down next to him and Gon. There was a steely light in her eyes that hadn’t been there before, even if she still seemed hesitant.

“Have you… seen Canary around?” she asked, a worried lilt to her voice. 

“Canary?” That was enough to bring Killua out of his momentary panic. “No, not since we passed by her yesterday when we arrived.” 

He locked eyes with Gon, who nodded in agreement. “Why?” he asked, brows furrowed over his brown eyes. 

“I haven’t seen her or managed to contact her since this morning.” Amane replied, eyes darting from one side to the other. “I thought… you might…” 

Her words died as she clenched her hands. Then, with renewed fervor, she got up again, quickly followed by the two boys, and smoothed her pants. 

“In any case, thank you, Killua-sama,” she said evenly, even as Killua could see the worry with which she bit her lip. “I will return to my duties.”

And before either of them could respond, she’d disappeared down a hallway at a quick pace. 

“What the  _ fuck _ was that?” Killua asked, looking over at Gon. 

“I hope Canary’s okay…” was Gon’s only answer. Killua did too, and he especially hoped this didn’t have anything to do with the damn wedding business. 

A gnawing feeling in his stomach told him he wouldn’t be quite so lucky. 

“So…” he started, tentatively. Gon looked back at him, big brown eyes boring into his. Oh  _ god _ , he could already feel his face light up. “Guess we should go meet my father, huh?” 

Gon seemed cautious around Killua on their way to his grandfather’s office, periodically looking over towards him with an unreadable expression. Well, Killua couldn’t exactly blame him; he guessed he’d also be apprehensive if he was meeting the head of an assassin family. 

He knocked softly on the door, and after a moment, there was an answer of “Come in”. Once again feeling a bit sick to his stomach, Killua pushed open the door. 

Inside, he found his father and his grandfather sitting at a low table in the middle of the office, the whole room gloriously decorated with tapestries and fabrics of the most varied colors. He was pretty sure each object inside was worth more than Gon’s entire house on Whale Island. 

Not that that made any sense, but whatever. 

They walked in together, Killua managing to calm himself down and now  _ Gon _ being the one who seemed about to burst into flames. Or maybe puke. One of the two. 

“Hey there, Dad. Grandpa.” Killua gave them a small,  _ nonchalant _ wave as he closed the door behind him. Everything was cool, and they had in no way come to ruin Illumi’s wedding, nope, not even a little. “What’s up?” 

“Ah, Killua.” Zeno smiled from where he sat, hand around a whisky-filled glass. “Glad you could get here so fast. I was worried you might’ve gotten held up.” 

“Pfft, yeah,” Killua responded dismissively. “As though there’s anything interesting to do in this house.” 

“Killua,” Silva interrupted, and his son almost snapped at attention. “You should introduce your…  _ friend _ to us.” 

Oh, it looked like it’d actually hurt him to get that word out. Killua couldn’t help the sly grin that snuck onto his face. 

“Ah yes!” Before Killua could react though, Gon was already standing ramrod straight, looking twelve different kinds of uncomfortable and another seven or so of flustered as he yelped. “I’m Gon Freecs! I’m Killua’s best friend! Thank you very much for inviting me here today!” 

Oh god, there he went again saying extremely embarrassing things, now with the added bonus of it being in front of his predecessors. Amazing. Killua fought it, but he could feel the blush creeping up his entire body towards his face. 

“Please, sit, both of you.” Zeno pointed towards the low table at which both men were sitting, and the boys approached warily, seating themselves on the cushions. “So, Gon, I’ve heard your father is a famous Hunter?”

_ From whom?! _ Killua couldn’t help but think. Also, why in the world had they gone straight into the “so what do your parents do?” part of the conversation? Well… At least this was something Gon was comfortable talking about. 

As he gazed towards the boy, sitting cross-legged excitedly telling his grandfather exactly  _ why  _ Ging was the best Hunter in the entire world (something that he still couldn’t understand why Gon believed, the man was an ass, in Killua’s honest opinion), he couldn’t help the fond smile that crept up his face alongside the blooming warmth in his chest. 

Or at least, until it was replaced by a tremendous sense of dread as a shiver ran up his spine. He slowly turned his head, seeing the cold, calculating look his father was regarding him with, as though Silva had opened him up like a book, and could understand everything that was going and had ever gone through his mind. 

And then, Silva looked milimetrically towards Gon, clearly evaluating him under his gaze. The atmosphere had shifted, and Zeno and Gon paused their conversation and looked back at Silva. The elder Zoldyck settled back, as the young Hunter steeled his gaze and met the silver haired assassin’s across the table. 

Killua's heart was racing inside his chest, the wordless air stealing his own from his lungs. 

And then, as though he’d reached some sort of conclusion he was probably not going to share with Killua any time soon, Silva broke his staring contest with Gon, looking back towards his son. 

“What about you, Killua?” he asked in a measured voice, and Killua couldn’t even begin to guess what emotions were hidden behind it. “What have you been up to?”

“Oh, y’know, the usual. Traveling around, training in different places.” Killua shrugged.  _ Running away from my murderous brother. _ The usual.

“That doesn’t seem very fulfilling. You could always come back home.  _ Both _ of you,” Silva suggested. 

“No, thanks.” Killua’s gaze towards his father was icy and unyielding. “I’m not bringing her back here. You  _ know _ that, Father.”

“Perhaps.” Silva didn’t seem fazed. “You will change your mind one day.” 

Before the conversation could devolve into something dangerous, however, Zeno saw it well to rescue it once again. 

“So, Gon, I’ve heard”—seriously,  _ from fucking whom _ , Killua definitely needed to keep a better eye out—“that you’ve only recently taken up traveling with our Killua. What were you doing before then?” 

“Oh, I’m kind of an honorary member of a Hunter group that focuses on conservation of endangered species and their habitats. We travel to different places and help fund and kickstart conservation and proliferation efforts for the different flora and fauna that might be endangered in the region. It’s very fulfilling work!” Gon  _ beamed _ at his father and grandfather, and Killua couldn’t help the proud grin that formed on his face.  _ Guess you weren’t expecting that, huh, old man? _

It had admittedly been a shock to Killua when he’d first heard Gon excitedly spout information about his participation on the team, and everything they’d been doing, but then again, there hadn’t really been any reason for it to have been. Gon wasn’t an idiot, not by any means, and he’d always organically picked up knowledge on the natural world.

“That does sound very nice,” Zeno replied, interest piqued. “Exactly which regions are you active in?” 

“Well…” Gon started and off they went. The rest of the afternoon was spent amidst tales of his many exploits, not only alone, but also with Killua. Killua occasionally chimed in, being careful to leave out any identifying information that they could use to track down Alluka’s location. 

It was, by all appearances, a perfectly lighthearted, normal conversation, but there was still a tense undercurrent in every word spoken, and the looks exchanged between Silva and Gon could more often be called glares than not. The heavy atmosphere didn’t seem likely to leave even as the sun set and the boys decided to. 

They got up, Gon flexing his legs (which had fallen asleep, apparently), exchanging pleasantries with Zeno. Those two had kind of found some common ground, Killua supposed, and that fact filled him with a small flame of happiness. 

“Killua.” The boy turned, facing his father. Gon was still engaged in conversation with his grandfather, but he was no doubt paying equal attention to Killua. “Come here.” 

He approached Silva, hands buried in his pockets as he walked around the low table. He faced his father, a small victory present in the fact that he didn’t have to look up quite as much as the last time they’d been face-to-face. Maybe growing up wasn’t all bad. 

“Yeah?” Killua tried to keep his face neutral, even as his hands trembled inside their cotton cocoons. 

“He’s…  _ interesting _ , isn’t he?” The word didn’t land well in Killua’s ears, the sort of word you use when you truly don’t like something but don’t want to be impolite. “You’re very attached to him.” 

The statement felt heavy on Killua, unspoken and maybe even unthought threats hanging in the air, but he was too paranoid to try to discern which one this was. 

“Father…” The word that came out of Killua’s lips was raspy and unsure. The knowledge that his father seemingly possessed was at once too scary to consider and unavoidably real. 

“Well, I suppose it’s not the worst you could have done.” Silva said dismissively, and Killua felt a small part of his world crumble as his father walked away. 

Of course Gon was not the worst he could have done. Gon was the best thing that had ever happened to him. But Killua supposed it was only natural for his father to not share that opinion. After all, in his view, Gon had been the one who’d taken him away. 

As he moved towards the door, Gon quickly withdrawing himself from his conversation with Zeno, they locked eyes, and Killua smiled reassuringly at Gon. Yeah, it was okay. Maybe that was just the way his father expressed satisfaction. If he was anything like Killua, maybe it was too embarrassing or awkward to say otherwise. 

They both sighed in relief as the door to his grandfather’s office closed behind them, and shared a smile as they began the return trip to Killua’s room. 

“That was… weird, huh?” Gon said sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his head. 

“Yeah… Father liked you, though,” Killua tentatively said as they walked through stone walled corridors. Yeah, that was good enough. 

“What?” Gon looked at Killua, mouth slightly agape, eyes unbelieving. “He said that?”   
  
“Well, not exactly… But that was the gist of it.” They’d reached the bedroom, and he opened the door, stepping inside. 

“Well… What did he say, then?” Gon entered the room as well, closing the door behind him, brows slightly furrowed. 

“It… it doesn’t matter.” Killua spoke towards the floor, trying to hide the reddening of his cheeks. 

“It does matter!” Gon’s forceful tone caused Killua to look up, surprised. 

“W-why?” His voice cracked slightly as he tried to make sense of the situation. 

“Killua, I saw your face when he was talking to you now at the end. Whatever he said to you, it made you make such a sad face!” Gon took a couple steps forward, closing the distance between them. “And if it had anything to do with me, I want you to know I don’t care! I don’t give a single shit about what your family thinks of me, and you know that!”

Gon grabbed Killua’s hands, making the boy tense up immediately.

“But I know you care. And I know how much it must hurt when they belittle your choices and make you feel worthless, and I know you’re trying to put on a brave face for me, but you don’t need to!” Gon’s voice had started out gentle, but was raising in intensity quickly. “You don’t need to take their demeaning comments, pretending to be nice, and be okay with it because that’s the only thing you ever get from them. You’re so used to thinking it’s okay that you can’t even see how horrible it is!” 

“It… It wasn’t…” 

It wasn’t like that, Killua wanted to say. 

_ Not the worst you could have done. Not the worst you could have done. Not the worst you could have done. _

But clearly, spelled out the unspoken words, clearly, not the best either. 

“W-what would you know, anyway?!” Killua needed someplace, someone on whom to spend his anger, his frustration, and Gon just so happened to be the closest target. “You’ve got your nice little family back at Whale Island, your nice mom who loves you and your grandma who loves you and even your dad probably loves you, he’s just weird. How could you understand, sure, my mom is a psycho, and my brother is probably worse, but my father is… ”

“Your father is just like the rest of them, Killua.” Gon sounded truly sad as he spoke, regretting every word even as he knew they must be spoken. “Every bit of pain you’ve suffered through in your life came from him.” 

“ But that was what made me strong!” 

“It doesn’t matter! That doesn’t make it okay! The way you talk about your time here… it’s like you don’t understand how terrible it was!” Gon paused his rant, catching his breath, and moved on, calmer. “Think of Alluka. Your father was the one who locked her up in that room, all those years.”

This made Killua pause. He could try to argue that he only did that to protect her, that Illumi and his mother would have been trying to use her or kill her instead, but he couldn’t do that, not when it came to Alluka, not when he’d heard Silva call her “a thing”. 

Looking down, his mind in shambles, Killua couldn’t even react even as Gon placed his hands on his shoulders.

“Killua…” 

“I… I get it…” Killua’s words came interspersed with sobs. “I’ve just... I’ve just always looked up to him, y’know? Not the same way as you looked up to Ging, but… I just… I wanted him to be okay with the way I am now… With the things I’ve chosen to do. I wanted him to like you, so, so bad.” 

And then he was being crushed in Gon’s embrace, tears streaming down his face as the other boy grabbed him tightly. 

“Don’t worry, Killua! Even if your entire family hates me, even if they’re all assholes, I’ll be here for you, I’ll always be here for you.”    
  
And it would be so easy to just fall into Gon’s warmth, to just let himself forget all of this for a while, but deep down he knew that Gon would never be there for him the way he so, so greedily wanted him to. And in that split second, it was like the blood in his veins turned to ice, and he pushed Gon away. 

“I… I need to be by myself for a while.” And before Gon could react, he’d rushed out the door, leaving the other boy there with a dumbfounded expression. 

Killua ran up the stairs, upwards and upwards, only moonlight illuminating his way. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, and he didn’t know,  _ didn’t want to know _ why, he just wanted to run away, out of this house, out of this world. 

He kicked open the skylight to the roof, climbing into the night. It was… kind of cold, for mid-March. Honestly though, it was refreshing, and helped Killua's mind settle a bit. 

He'd always liked coming here when he needed to think. It was the only place in the house where no one would be watching over him, where he could just look at the moon and the stars and feel like things could maybe be alright. 

He moved with his cat-like gait around the various structures jutting out from the mansion, towards the spot he most enjoyed sitting on, where there would be nothing in front of him but the empty expanse of the mountainside leading downwards, and nothing above but the sky. 

And then, as he rounded a corner around a skylight, he froze. Sitting exactly where he was moving to sit was Illumi, looking at the moon in much the same way Killua had done so many times before. 

Framed by the moonlight, he looked ghostly, an otherworldly presence, his face not showing a complete lack of emotion or a manic disposition, but an almost melancholic gaze towards the night sky. 

“Illu-nii?” Killua couldn’t prevent the slightly awed syllables from leaving his lips. The specter that looked like his brother turned minutely towards him, mouth imperceptibly open. 

“Killu?” Illumi sounded as surprised as his younger brother to have been found on the roof. 

“What… are you doing here?”

“I came here to think.” A pause, in which Illumi cast his gaze back towards the moon. “You used to do the same, right?” 

“How… I thought no one knew about that!” 

“I knew about it. Don’t forget, I am your brother. I know… I  _ knew _ everything about you. And even then I suppose I didn’t know that much at all, since you were most likely here planning your escape. I always thought it was a harmless activity, so I never even bothered telling Mother.”

Silence fell over the siblings. Slowly, Killua sat down on the edge of the roof, although a good three meters still separated him from Illumi. 

“Killu.” After some minutes had passed, the silence was broken once more. “Are you happy?” 

“What the fuck?” Killua said, startled. “That’s not a question you have any right to ask me.” 

“I suppose not,” Illumi agreed, still in the same melancholic tone.

More silence. Somewhere off in the distance, an owl hooted. 

“Happier, I guess.” Killua finally answered. “I finally feel free.” 

“Freedom… I wonder what that is like.”

For a microsecond, it was as if Illumi’s image wavered, and Killua saw someone else there; not the brother who’d controlled and tortured him his entire existence, but someone equally as broken by their parents, someone who he himself could have very easily become. 

_ Stop that,  _ he thought to himself,  _ this is Illu-nii. He knew exactly what he was doing all along.  _

_ Did he ever get a chance to learn otherwise?  _ another voice inside himself chimed in.  _ I got that chance. I could be Illumi 2.0 right now if I hadn’t.  _

_ He tried to kill Alluka! Forget me, I’m not about to fucking forgive him for that.  _

_ Calm down,  _ yet another branch of personality piped up,  _ no one’s talking about that. But if Illu-nii’s having some sort of existential crisis, then mayyybe pushing him out of this house and into Hisoka’s awaiting arms could be positive in the long run.  _

_ How?,  _ the Killua he’d chosen to declare as “main Killua” in the debate going on in his head didn’t seem extremely convinced.  _ How is putting Hisoka and Illumi together going to be in any shape or form a positive development?  _

_ Maybe they’ll become too interested in each other to care as much about me,  _ “Sympathetic Killua” proclaimed. 

_ Maybe they’ll get too invested in fucking each other,  _ “Shrewd Killua” sniggered.

_ Ew. _

_ Or maybe they’ll kill each other,  _ he shrugged.  _ In any case, separating Illumi from Mother is probably a good idea. Giving Hisoka something other than Gon to focus on seems one as well.  _

_ And maybe…  _ “Sympathetic Killua” seemed almost apologetic.  _ Maybe it’ll give him a chance to actually form a personality? _

Killua (the real one, not the one having arguments with himself inside his mind) sighed, getting up and walking closer to his brother. 

“You could go find out.” Illumi’s head turned sharply at these words, what was probably an disbelieving expression on his face. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not about to forgive you for what you did to me, and especially not for what you did to Alluka, and if you fell off this roof and died, I wouldn’t really shed a single tear.” 

_ Maybe one.  _

_ Shut up.  _

“But…” Killua looked at his brother, blue eyes meeting black. “If you getting together with Hisoka and being happy is what it takes to get you off my case forever, then I’ll give you whatever blessing you’re looking for.”

“Hi—” Killua kind of couldn’t believe his eyes. His brother seemed to actually be… flustered? “Hisoka? What does this have to do with Hisoka?”

“I… I thought this had to do with Hisoka? Because of, y’know, the whole wedding thing?” 

“Yes... no?” Illumi looked at Killua with an almost panicked look. “I don’t know?” 

It was  _ scary  _ how vulnerable Illumi looked in that moment, and it took all of Killua’s willpower not to run very far away, and instead, sit back down, next to his brother. 

“Illu-nii.” Killua tried to speak calmly, as he might have when he was trying to explain a difficult concept to Nanika. “What do you want to do?” 

“I’ve always wanted to protect you,” Illumi sighed as Killua visibly cringed. “I realize, we might’ve had different opinions on what that should entail. But it was my life’s mission. To protect you, and Milluki, and Alluka, and Kalluto, and help the family flourish.” 

“And then… Suddenly, no one needed to be protected anymore. Milluki grew up. You ran away. Alluka… I won’t mention Alluka. Kalluto went off on his own. And I didn’t know what to do anymore. And yes… Then there’s Hisoka.” 

Illumi drew up his knees against his chest, such a human gesture that Killua once again had to stifle his instinct to run away. 

"I don't know what he is to me. I've never known, really. He wasn't family, and he wasn't a target. He was just  _ there _ , all the time, no matter how often I told him to leave. And I guess over time I might've gotten used to his presence." More silence, as Illumi's eyes reflected the moonlight. "And when Mother told me I'd be getting married, I realized that I probably wouldn't be able to spend time with Hisoka as before."

Illumi raised a hand to his chest, as though trying to verify his heart was indeed beating (something Killua sometimes had trouble believing), clenching the fabric of his top.

"Killu, have you ever gotten so used to having someone by your side that…" Words seemed to fail Illumi at that point, lacking the vocabulary to explain such an unknown feeling. 

"Yeah." Killua swallowed dryly, his mind somewhere else, on someone else. "Yeah, I know what you mean." 

Killua raised his hands to his head, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. He clawed at his head slightly, letting out a frustrated groan. 

"Killu?" 

"Nothing." Killua removed his hands from his head, facing Illumi once more. "I guess we actually are siblings, huh." 

For the first time in his life, Killua understood how his brother was feeling. Maybe it was because it was the first time Illumi was genuinely feeling something, but still. It was a strange sensation, to be able to empathize with his brother. Another moment of silence fell on the pair, as Killua examined Illumi cautiously. 

“So.” Killua finally broke the silence, eyes meeting with his brother’s. “What do you want to do?” 

“Heh.” It was downright  _ creepy  _ to see Illumi grinning without looking maniacally like he wanted to kill something. Just a quick chortle, seemingly surprising him as much as Killua. “Everyone keeps asking me that. The one time in twenty-six years I actually made a choice, I managed to let Hisoka into my life.”

“Was it a bad choice? I mean, it obviously was for all of us, but for you personally.” 

“No…” Illumi paused, casting his gaze back to the moon, as though his mind was somewhere else. “If I had to say, I think I’ve enjoyed my time with him.” 

“Then…” Killua got up, crossing his arms behind his head. “I’d say go for it, Illu-nii. Whatever the end result is, nothing can be worse than staying here.” 

He began walking away, back towards the window. Somehow, he felt refreshed, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. 

“Wait, Killu!” 

Killua turned around. His brother had gotten up as well, a hand outstretched towards him.

“How do you know that? How do you know it’s not worse than staying here?” 

“Because, brother, I’ve done it.” He smirked victoriously, defeating his last enemy. “You’ll be surprised at what can happen when no one else is controlling you.” 


	6. The Kiss

Killua ran down the stairs, picking up speed, unsure if he was leaving static electricity in the air as he sprinted. He felt somehow euphoric, like he’d just emerged triumphant from a hard-fought battle. 

_ But I have, right? If this works… If this works… We might be free from Illumi. And without Illumi… Mother really has no power. And Father… Father doesn’t even care.  _

He paused as that thought crossed his mind. But Father had never really cared. He saw Killua as the vessel for the future of the family, and little more. 

He sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

_ I was really unfair to Gon earlier. It’s not his fault that I’m… like this. I should apologize. He was being nice and I just…  _

“KILLUA!!” 

Before he could move forward with that thought, he was being slammed into by a very solid  _ something, _ his entire being crushed by a vigorous hug. 

“Gon?” Apparently he’d walked back to his room while lost in thought, and as soon as he’d made it a step into the room, he’d been tackled. 

“Killuuuuuaaaa!! I’m so sorry!” Gon was shoving his face into Killua's chest, but at the volume he was shouting, he had no problem hearing him. And probably, neither did the rest of Kukuroo Mountain. Killua took a step forward, closing the door behind him with his foot. “I didn’t even realize that I was saying that I could replace your family, and of course I couldn’t replace your family, even if they’re… bad people. I shouldn’t have thought I—”

“Gon. It’s okay.” Gon stepped back, looking at Killua wide-eyed. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have just left like that.”

Gon took another step back, looking at Killua expectantly. 

“I guess I didn’t want to admit that you were right.” His face flushed as his eyes met Gon’s, the true reason why he’d fled still hidden in his heart. “And then I started to break down, and I didn’t know how to deal with it so I just ran away. I’m sorry.” 

Killua breathed in, and then out.

“I met Illumi on the roof.” 

“What?” Instantly Gon’s voice dropped an octave, his eyes growing darker by the second. Killua quickly placed a placanting hand on his upper arm. 

“It was alright, I think. Maybe I’ve managed to convince him to go with Hisoka. I dunno, Gon, I just…” Killua grasped at the air before shoving his hands into his pockets. “It was like speaking to someone I could’ve become, if I hadn’t gotten away from here. If I hadn’t met you.”

Gon approached Killua. “You would never become like Illumi, Killua.” Softly, he grabbed Killua’s wrists, taking his hands out of his pockets and holding them in his own. “And even if you had, I’d still have found you, and I would have dragged the real you out of there. You’re not a bad person, Killua.” 

Killua thought of the countless people he’d killed before he’d met Gon, and the countable ones after. He felt his eyes stinging, and turned his gaze downwards. 

“I’m not so sure about that, Gon. If Mother had gotten to me the same way she got to Illumi, there might not be that big of a difference.” 

“Even then!” Killua raised his gaze, meeting Gon’s incandescent one. “You still wouldn’t be a bad person.” 

“You do realize that you’re basically saying Illumi’s also not a bad person?”

“No. He’s bad.” 

Before his brain could catch up, Killua was laughing, almost hysterically, knees buckling as he dropped to the floor, dragging Gon along. 

“Killua?” 

“Honestly,” Killua managed to choke out between giggles, “you’re such an idiot. You make no sense.” 

And then there were tears mixed with the laughter, sobs in between the chuckles, and Killua was a mess sitting on his bedroom floor, Gon worrying over him. 

_ And I’m the bigger idiot, I guess. God, Gon…  _ Amidst tears, he could see Gon’s face swimming above him, concern etched on it.  _ I’m so in love with you, idiot. _

* * *

Illumi slowly made his way through the darkened hallways, footfalls light. He felt… strange. He raised a hand to his chest, grasping at the fabric from his top as though trying to reach his beating heart. This was getting kind of annoying though, all these different sensations rushing through his body. Was this what came with the territory of making decisions? Illumi wasn’t completely sure he liked it. 

Lost in thought, he didn’t even notice the presence approaching him until a fireball had been flung towards his head, forcing him to dodge at the last moment. 

“What...” The voice was cold, shrill, immediately stiffening Illumi’s spine and making him turn around, face schooled into a blank expression. “...Are you doing, Illumi?”

“Mother.” 

She came closer, one step, two steps, as Illumi remained rooted where he stood. 

“You seem awfully distracted. Is everything all right?” It might have been the conversation he had with Killua dulling his mind. It might have been the fact that he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in months. It might’ve been Hisoka—he could probably trace the origin of everything to him—but for the first time in his life, he could hear how fake the concern she showed was, how her madness was there just underneath the surface. 

Or maybe it was just the first time he’d let himself hear it. 

“Everything’s fine, Mother.” Apathy settled easily into Illumi’s voice, after so many years. “I was just heading to bed.”

“Yes,” she raised a cold hand, bringing it to her son’s face. “You should do that. You have a big day coming up tomorrow.” 

He nodded. Slowly, Illumi turned back around, once again walking mechanically towards his room. 

“Illumi.” The voice would have been frigid enough to settle an active volcano. “I don’t know what you talked about with Killua, but you shouldn’t let your brother get inside your head. You’re my last good child. Don’t disappoint me. You  _ will _ be at the wedding tomorrow.” 

Illumi whirled around, but there was no longer anyone there. His shoulders trembling, a cold sweat blistering his skin, he parted his lips. 

“Yes, Mother.” The whisper was carried through the hallways even as Illumi swallowed and returned to his room, a single thought on his mind, even as he lay in bed. 

_ But that’s the last order I’ll allow you to give me.  _

* * *

Killua couldn’t fall asleep the entire night. 

Between Gon, who’d decided to use his entire body as his own personal pillow and determinately refusing to even consider letting go of Killua, lest the other boy “start being weird again”; and his own wandering thoughts on Illumi, Hisoka, his family in general, Alluka, Gon, and basically everything that could conveniently pass through his mind to make it impossible to fall asleep… Killua just couldn’t. 

Not for the first time, he wondered where he’d be if he hadn’t met Gon. Gon had barreled into his life, bringing with him friends, adventure, fun, and enough light to blind the sun itself, but he’d also brought a depth of loneliness Killua hadn’t known it was possible to experience before, a dimension of pain completely different from anything he’d felt before, and a darkness that sucked away all the good that had come before. 

And thanks to all of that, every single bit, he’d saved Killua. 

If Gon had never been at the Hunter Exam… Killua would have probably still made it to the end. He probably still would have met Illumi in the final phase. Killua probably would have gone home without a word, since he wouldn’t have had any reason to do anything else. 

And Killua would’ve become Illumi. 

Killua thought of Hisoka. There was clearly a large untold story unraveling between the clown and the assassin. Had Hisoka once been someone to Illumi like Gon was to him? Or had he failed to become even that? 

In the same way Killua could’ve become someone like Illumi if he hadn’t met Gon… who would Gon be right now, if he hadn’t met Killua? 

_ He’d be dead.  _

Killua wasn’t sure which part of the departing fates would have caused Gon to meet his demise, but knowing the forward-facing, full-speed-ahead, fuck-shit-up-first-and-don’t-think-about-it-later Gon… he’d definitely be dead. 

Killua pensively ran his hand through Gon’s hair from the base of his neck up until the crown of his head where it rested under Killua’s chin. 

It was amazing how much things could change based on one small moment. How much they’d change based on one small encounter. One small choice. 

Outside his window, the sun was beginning to rise, and Killua stifled a yawn. Bit late to fall asleep now. 

Maybe today would have one of those choices. Maybe yesterday had already had one of those choices, when he’d talked to his brother. In any case, nothing was going to happen with him laying in bed. 

“Hey Gon. You wanna wake up?” 

“Hm… nooo.” Gon tightened his hug around Killua, hiding his face in the crook of his neck. 

“Idiot, if you’re answering me I know you’re awake.” 

Gon raised his head, meeting Killua’s gaze and sticking out his tongue. 

“Hehe. You found me out.~” Gon’s intense gaze was still a bit too much for Killua, who could rapidly feel his cheeks heating up, so he quickly shoved a hand in Gon’s face, pushing the other boy away. 

“Anyway, if you’re awake, can you let go of me? It’s embarrassing, Gon.” 

“Why? I like hugging Killua! You’re all soft, and fluffy, and warm, and calming, and cute, and…” he sat on his heels on the bed as he listed all the apparent qualities Killua had as a pillow on his fingers. 

Killua, on the other hand, was pretty sure his face more resembled a lobster flapping its mouth at the moment.

“Ah. You’re steaming.” Upon noticing this fact, Gon finally decided to get up, stretching in front of the window. “So, what are our plans for today?” 

Trying not to focus too much on Gon’s figure, bathed by the sunlight as he stretched, muscles pulling against tanned skin, the shape of his back being revealed as he bent down to touch his toes, the cavity of his collarbone shadowed by… 

“Killua?” Gon asked, looking upwards from where he was currently doing a handstand. 

Killua shook his head vigorously.  _ Goddamnit Gon, why’d you have to be so  _ \- eyes shining with fervor and light, framed by innocent curiosity -  _ goddamn -  _ back arching as he went from a handstand to a bridge, before jumping into a standing position -  _ distracting?!?!  _

“N-no, nothing.” Finally regaining control of his mouth, Killua tried - desperately - to get back on track. “Well, it’s Illumi’s wedding day, and I feel like we’ve managed to accomplish absolutely nothing at all.” 

“That’s not true,” Gon replied as he stretched his triceps. “Yesterday you had that talk with Illumi.” 

“Hmm, I guess. Still, there’s a lot riding on whatever Hisoka’s planning to do today.” 

“Speaking of that,” Gon sad as he stretched his hamstrings, “weren’t we supposed to help him sneak in today?” 

A pause. 

A look of mild panic shared between the two boys. 

A scramble as Killua looked out the window, half-expecting to see Hisoka perched there like a seagull, and Gon scavenged for his jacket, finding his phone in one of the pockets. 

“Oh shit.” He turned to Killua, absolute terror mirrored on his face. “I’ve got fourteen missed calls from Hisoka.”

“WHY DO YOU EVEN HAVE HISOKA’S NUMBER?” 

“I DUNNO!! WHY  _ DON’T _ YOU HAVE HISOKA’S NUMBER?”

“WHY IN THE FUCKING WORLD WOULD I HAVE HISOKA’S NUMBER?” 

“YOU MIGHT NEED TO CALL HIM?” 

“What for?!? ‘Hey Hisoka, it’s Killua here, could you come by, I kinda need a psycho clown’s help right about now’??!” 

“Hmm, that’s not a bad idea, thanks Killua.” And before Killua could stop him, Gon had pressed the call button. 

_ Myuuun.  _

_ Myuuun.  _

_ Myuuun.  _

_ Click.  _

“H-Hisoka?” Gon asked tentatively. 

“Ahhh, Gon~ I was getting… worried.” The tone of his voice suggested he wasn’t particularly worried. 

“Sorry about that, I had my phone in my jacket, and I didn’t notice it was ringing.” 

As Gon talked with Hisoka, planning where to rendezvous to let Hisoka into the house unseen, Killua moved towards his closet, walking in. As expected, at some point during the night two formal suits had been left there, each with a card on top, labeled in neat handwriting with “Gon” and “Killua” respectively. Why there was at least one butler in the household with intricate knowledge of Gon’s measurements and how they’d come by that information was a question Killua didn’t particularly want answered. 

Grabbing the suits, Killua emerged from the closet right as Gon finished his call. 

“So?” 

“I’ve got it all planned! Once the wedding starts, I’ll wait outside and sneak away to let Hisoka in!” 

“That sounds… supremely like something that is barely a plan.”

“Well…” Gon shrugged. “I thought simple would be best.” 

It wasn’t even completely farfetched, Killua considered. With everyone focused on Illumi’s wedding, few people would actually be around to guard the mansion itself. It might be absurdly simple, but it wasn’t an absurd plan. 

“But then, wouldn’t it be better if I went? I’ve lived here for years, I know the ins and outs of this place pretty damn well.”

“Nooo.” Gon crossed his arms in front of his body. “If Killua’s missing from the ceremony, that’ll be way too suspicious!” 

“Hmm. Guess you’re right.” Killua placed his hands on the back of his head, bringing his elbows together in front of his face as he thought. He looked over towards Gon for a moment, who shrugged helplessly. “So… I guess all there is left to do is to get ready and go crash a wedding, huh?” 

Gon nodded, and slowly, methodically, they started getting dressed, Killua trying his hardest not to sneak glances towards the other boy, which was made considerably more difficult when Gon kept asking him for help with the more troubling items of the formal outfit, such as the cufflinks, the folded handkerchief, and most obviously, the bowtie. 

“Killuaaaaa,” Gon cried out after a couple minutes standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom, the crumpled piece of black silk hanging around his neck. “Can you help me?” 

He looked way more pitiful than anyone had any right to be in a couldn’t-even-guess-how-many jenny suit, so Killua just sighed as he approached his friend. 

“You’re helpless, you know that?” He grabbed at the edges of the tie, trying to smooth out the creases caused by Gon’s altercation with it. 

“It’s just too smooth, I can’t grab it properly to make a decent knot!” Gon pouted slightly, a look Killua could appreciate particularly well from his slightly higher vantage point. 

“Idiot, what do you think this is, the rope they use to tie boats to the pier?” Killua slowly started the process to tie the bow, over, behind, around, over… 

“Well, I can’t help it if I’m just an idiot from a fishing village.” Killua lost track of his movements, and cursed slightly under his breath as he undid the knot and started doing it again. Gon looked up. “Killua?” 

“Don’t worry, I’m also an idiot who forgets how to do this sometimes. Besides…” he paused for a moment, pulling the bows sideways as he finally managed to tie it half-decently. “Your village’s the best.” 

And Gon, as Gon always did, flashed his thousand-watt smile straight at Killua’s face, and he was way too close for this, and his hands were still holding the bow tie around his neck, and  _ wow _ , Killua just hadn’t noticed how super close they were until just now, and he was probably going to get sunburnt all over his face just from the smile Gon was giving him. 

“Thanks, Killua!” And, as though only now noticing, he looked down towards his own neck. “Oh, and thanks for this!” 

And his hands went up to grab at Killua’s own, interlacing his fingers with Killua’s, bringing their bodies together in a strange sort of armless hug, as he rested his head on Killua’s chest and sighed. 

"G-Gon?" The question came out more as a squeak, as his mind tried to make sense of the situation. 

"I'm really glad you brought me here, Killua. I know this weekend hasn't been the easiest thing for you, but I'm glad I could be by your side." He moved back, once again focusing Killua under his gaze. "Plus it’s almost over! And then we can get back to training, and hanging out with Alluka! Everything will go back to normal!" 

Killua felt his throat close, looking down at Gon with wavering eyes. He… he could definitely use a bit of that normal right about now. 

“Yeah… Yeah, Gon, that sounds really nice, actually,” Killua managed to choke out. Gon let go of his hands, and he couldn’t help but clench his own, missing the contact. 

_ Just a couple more hours with my family. I can handle it.  _

* * *

Killua was not, as one might say, handling it. It had been barely fifteen minutes since he’d entered the ceremony hall, and he was already itching all over the place, desperate to run away. 

“Onii-sama,” Kalluto chided him in a low whisper, grabbing his sleeve, “stop fidgeting.” 

Killua looked sideways, where Kalluto was currently sitting, in the very first row of the ceremony hall. Killua had managed to snag an empty seat at the very end of the right column, so he only had Kalluto by his left side. From there, it was Milluki, his father, and then his mother. His grandfather was filling the role of officiator, which meant he stood in front of them, between the pair that was to be wedded. 

“I can’t help it,” Killua whispered back. “This whole thing just gives me the creeps.” 

Kalluto chortled, and Killua couldn’t help but notice how out of place it felt. Kalluto had gone all out for his outfit for the wedding, in a deep purple furisode with a myriad of blooming flowers, his hair decorated with an equally flowering hairpin. Sitting perfectly still on the chair, he’d looked like a little Ichimatsu doll, and Killua had seen just enough movies where those suddenly came alive and murdered everyone to be just slightly creeped out. Especially since he knew that Kalluto could also very much do that. 

Still, as his brother laughed, a bit of the atmosphere around him had broken, and he seemed to be just a cute kid, slightly bored at his brother’s wedding. 

Or, at least until his laughter turned into a sly smile and magenta eyes narrowed on Killua’s face. 

“You’re planning something, aren’t you,  _ Onii-sama _ ?” Yeah, no, that definitely was creepy. 

“W-what makes you say that?” Killua pointedly looked away, suddenly very interested in examining Illumi’s downcast bored face as he—supposedly—listened to his grandfather drone on about the virtues of marriage. 

If he’d had to describe Illumi at that moment, he’d say that he looked very elegant. He was wearing a dark-green military inspired suit, with tight pants, knee-high black boots, and a jacket decorated with golden buttons and delicate chains. His hair was braided to one side, giving him an almost poetically pensive visage. 

In stark contrast, his soon-to-be-if-Gon-and-Hisoka-didn’t-hurry-the-fuck-up wife, Babirye, was wearing a white tunic dress with golden trimmings, which extended all around her feet in a pattern like a mosaic. Her face was, as usual, covered by a white veil, but there was something about her eyes that was desperately trying to jog Killua’s memory, not to much avail. 

“Well, for one,” Kalluto’s voice brought Killua out of his contemplation, and he looked back towards his brother. “Gon’s not around.” 

“Ah.” 

“Secondly,” Kalluto continued, “you keep looking around like you’re expecting a demon to burst into the room.”

Technically… not wrong. 

“And thirdly… You could call it intuition.” Once again, that unsettling I-could-murder-you-I’m-just-choosing-not-to smile. Was everyone in this family besides himself and Alluka completely corrupted? 

_ Well… probably even including myself.  _

And then, before Killua could even try to come up with a convincing lie or a snide comment, the double doors to the hall burst open, causing everyone to turn around and stare at the offending party. 

“Oh? It seems like I’ve arrived slightly late. My apologies~” 

Hisoka's eyes were shining and he had a charming grin on his face as he took his first steps into the hall. Shockingly, and making himself immediately want to electrocute himself after thinking it, Killua realized he was actually quite attractive from an objective standpoint. 

For once, Hisoka didn’t look like a walking advert for the closest circus. Wearing a black velvet tuxedo, most likely bespoke, quite possibly with Bungee Gum (or maybe by Machi, if he'd paid her an inordinate amount of money), with the silk stripes and buttons in bright, eye-hurtingly hot pink. The same hot pink could be found in the bow tie he had around his neck, and the handkerchief poking out of his breast pocket, folded in the shape of a heart. His hair was back to its usual, pointed style, and although there wasn’t the usual makeup on his face, he had small earrings in his ears in the shape of clubs, as well as diamond shaped cufflinks. Knowing Hisoka,  he probably had all four card suits somewhere on his person... ah, there it was—the missing spade took the form of the eyelets of his derby shoes, carefully bent pieces of metal completing the quartet.

It should have, by all means, looked completely ridiculous. Maybe it was because of the way Hisoka carried himself, or maybe it was simply because it  _ was _ Hisoka, but it didn’t look ridiculous at all. 

Behind him, Killua could see Gon, hands on his knees and seemingly out of breath. Still, he raised his head, locking triumphant eyes with Killua, who could immediately feel a blush creeping up his cheeks. 

"My... I confess I was quite offended at not receiving an invitation to this wonderful ceremony..." His eyes scanned the room, landing on Illumi, as he continued walking forward.  So arresting was the man's presence that the room seemed to hold its collective breath, no one moving a muscle as he proceeded down the aisle.  "Perhaps I was simply forgotten, or perhaps you were afraid I would cause a scene?"

“Y-You!!!” Kikyo got up, seeming to have finally regained her composure, much to the chagrin of everyone’s eardrums. “What are you doing here?!” 

Hisoka looked over Kikyo, disdain in his golden eyes. 

“What I should have done a long time ago. I’m here to pick up something of mine.” The clown moved his gaze towards Illumi, who finally raised his head, locking eyes with Hisoka. 

“Hisoka.” The name was barely whispered, but it was enough for the jester to start walking forward single-mindedly, no goal besides the dark-haired assassin.

But before he could reach his destination, just as he stood level with Killua, an unknown voice invaded his mind. 

“ _Clown. Did you complete my request?_ ” Well, Killua was at least partially certain that the message wasn’t directed at him. 

Eyes changing targets to Babirye, Hisoka smiled. That made more sense.

“As you requested, the target is waiting for you in a car outside the gates.” With a slightly ironic bow, Hisoka smirked at her. 

“I see.” Her voice was warm and melodious, especially spoken rather than thought, and something in it made Killua finally place the expression and the person and the conclusion didn’t make any sense at all—but then she was moving, clapping her hands together. 

With one hand she touched Illumi’s shoulder, and, stepping forward, she touched Hisoka’s. 

“Private Parley.” she whispered, and in that instant, several things happened in quick succession. 

Zeno grabbed her by the collar, pulling her back, to which she responded by trying to score a roundhouse kick at his head. Silva rose from his seat, aiming a punch at Hisoka, which he deflected using his nen abilities. Most of the other guests ran out of the hall at the quickly worsening situation, as Kikyo aimed fireballs at Hisoka’s face. Milluki sprung up from his seat and tried to flatten himself against the window as Kalluto slowly stood to join him, eyeing the fight with interest. 

Killua also jumped up towards the ceiling, mostly because Hisoka had just been thrown into the section of chairs where he happened to have been sitting, and down towards Gon, who really shouldn’t be unprotected in the middle of the destruction that was quickly becoming the ceremony hall. Well, like all explosions and disasters, it should at least be entertaining, if enjoyed from a safe distance. 

* * *

In the middle of chaos of energy punches and fireballs and Bungee Gum, Illumi heard a voice in his head. 

“ _ Hey—”  _ a pause as he backflipped to avoid one of his father’s punches. “ _ Hey there, Illumi. _ ”

“ _ Hisoka? _ ” He didn’t so much speak the words as think them, which seemingly was enough. 

“ _ I thought this would be the result of that ability.~ I must admit, I didn’t expect this to devolve into such a fun event. _ ” Illumi cast a glance towards Babirye who was currently fighting his grandfather, seemingly more annoyed at the recent developments than anything else. 

“ _ What are you even doing here, Hisoka? _ ”

“ _ Didn’t you hear me? _ ” Even as he got hit by a fireball on his shin, Hisoka smiled at Illumi. “ _ I’m here to get something of mine. I’m here to pick you up, Illumi. _ ” 

“ _ You… _ ” There was something resembling color rising up Illumi’s face. “ _ Why? Why are you always there, whether I want you to be or not? _ ” 

“ _ Because I want to. Because I want you. _ ”

“That’s… not a good enough reason…” Illumi both thought and muttered under his breath. “ _ Do you expect me to just leave everything and follow you, just because of that? _ ”

“ _ Illumi~ _ ” A pause as Hisoka landed a punch on his father’s stomach, quickly jumping backwards as the man aimed another one in return. “ _ Do you have fun when we’re together? _ ”

Illumi stopped and thought about that. What the hell did having fun even mean? His job was to be a good assassin, and help the family grow, and he couldn’t help but remember Killua, grinning at him in the moonlight as he talked about freedom. He thought of Hisoka, of all the crazy, absurd adventures he’d been dragged into thanks to him. And there was only one answer he could possibly give.

“ _ Yes. I… I think I do.”  _

“ _ Then that’s a good enough reason. Come with me, Illumi. I can show you incredible things.” _

“ _ I might kill you, one day. The thought has crossed my mind quite often before. _ ”

Hisoka laughed even as he wrapped his aura around Illumi’s parents, tying them together. 

“ _ I wouldn’t have it any other way. _ ” He landed softly and walked towards Illumi, suit singed and face bleeding. 

“Tell me, Illumi.” Hisoka’s eyes had never burned brighter than right now as he gazed into the endless abyss than was Illumi. “What do you want to do?” 

And Illumi grabbed Hisoka by the back of his neck and pulled him forward, crashing their lips together, hungry and passionate and feeling like the best thing (the only thing?) Illumi had ever chosen to do. There were, undoubtedly, other emotions running through him, emotions he’d never considered or had bothered to name, but none of that seemed to matter anymore right now, not when Hisoka was kissing him back, their auras mingling as they let out enough energy to level the mansion if they so desired. Illumi considered why it’d taken him so long to get here, exactly why he’d second-guessed himself so often when this was clearly the best possible path, a sensation of wholeness that he’d never even considered, only its existence putting into perspective how fractured the rest of his life had been. 

As they broke apart, Illumi could feel Hisoka’s gaze on his face, once again making that unpleasant heating sensation return to his cheeks. 

“That’s not a bad look on you.” Hisoka whispered as he caressed Illumi’s cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Such a lovely tint of red.”

Illumi realized that Hisoka was actually speaking to him, prompting him to look around, followed by the jester’s curious gaze. 

“Grandpa.” Illumi directed his words at Zeno, who was currently next to the window talking leisurely to Kalluto. “Where did she go?”    
  
“Oh, that nice young lady left just a little while ago.” Zeno rolled his shoulders. “Ahh, that was a good spar. I should fight with young people more often, it gives me life.” 

Hisoka and Illumi looked at each other. 

“So. What now?” Illumi asked. 

“I don’t know.” Hisoka smiled. “What do you want to do?” 

“Are you going to keep asking me that?” 

“Yes~” 

“Then… I guess for now I’d like to get very far away from here.” He looked at his mother, currently unconscious, and his father, quiet rage reflected in his eyes.

Hisoka grabbed Illumi’s hand, pulling him away and out of the room. As they left, they crossed paths with Gon and Killua, still standing slightly outside the hall. 

“Hisoka!” Gon called as they approached. “How’d it go?” 

“Well,” Hisoka hooked an arm around Illumi’s shoulders, pulling him close. “I’ve got what I came here for.” 

Illumi locked eyes with Killua, a silent question bubbling in his chest. 

_ Is it okay? To be feeling like this?  _

Killua nodded minutely, before a screech from the hall drew the attention of everyone present. 

“Oh shit, Illu-nii, it’s the hag.” Aura electrifying, he ran back towards the hall. “Get the fuck out of here, I’ll hold her off.” 

“Killu…!” 

“Don’t get me wrong, idiot, I haven’t forgiven you. But all of our lives will only get worse if you don’t get away!” 

As Killua entered the hall, Gon faced the pair. 

“Yeah, what he said!” the boy reiterated, arms crossed in front of his chest. 

“Gon… Will you tell Killu…” Illumi started, before being abruptly cut off. 

“No. Whatever it is, you can tell him yourself later.” The gaze Gon was leveling on him made it clear there was no room for discussion. “Even though I really don’t want to let you close to Killua.” 

And with that, Illumi was being dragged outside by Hisoka’s hand around his, fingers entangled, and yeah… maybe he could get used to this. And then he spotted the vehicle that Hisoka was apparently going to use for their getaway. A hot pink Cadillac (fittingly, the exact colour of the trimmings on Hisoka’s outfit) decorated with stringed cans on the bumper, and a huge, garish sign screaming for the world to see: JUST DISOWNED! 

Yeah. He was never going to get used to Hisoka. Perhaps that wasn’t such a bad thing after all. 


	7. The Recessional

Gon looked on as the pair departed, only to be surprised by a suddenly appearing Killua. 

“Shit, Gon, this was a terrible idea, hold on!” And then he was being scooped up into Killua’s arms, and Killua was dashing away, Gon’s whole body feeling pinpricks of energy as they ran down the mountain. 

And Gon looked at Killua’s worried profile as they absconded, shining like the brightest star, and something squeezed in his gut and something skipped in his chest and something inebriating filled his head. 

And before he knew what he was doing, he’d reached up and pressed his lips against Killua’s cheek, which prompted him to run into a tree. 

* * *

Canary was, in order of importance, furious, confused, and hungry. 

After her confrontation with that damned clown, she’d woken up in the passenger seat of a parked car, seemingly bound and gagged by some sort of weird, rubbery, gummy substance. Considering her fight with the harlequin, she could take a guess at what it was. 

She’d spent the first hour trying to break free, to no avail. 

She’d spend the next twelve just plain  _ fuming _ at the situation. She couldn’t move properly, she couldn’t scratch her nose, she was getting hungry and thirsty, and she still had no idea what the heck was going on. 

By the height of the sun in the sky, Canary assumed it must have been mid-morning when someone finally opened the driver’s side door, clambering into the car. And then, she was being enveloped in a hug even as she felt her bonds break away. 

“Nakato!” The voice had a warm accent, and sounded strangely familiar, and yet slightly... wrong. “Oh, Nakato… I can’t believe I’ve got you back…”

“My name is not Nakato.” Unsure of what exactly to say or what the situation was, Canary said the one thing she could think of. 

“What? But it’s obviously you! No matter the way I look at it, you have to be Nakato!” The other woman pulled back, letting Canary see her veil covered face, along with her eerily familiar eyes. 

“I’m sorry…” For some strange reason, Canary found herself unable to muster any animosity towards her would-be kidnapper. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.” 

“Ah.” Seemingly thinking of something, the woman raised her hands towards her face. “This might help you understand.” 

And she removed the veil, letting it fall even as she leveled her gaze with Canary’s, letting her see her face. Her… exactly identical face to her own. 

“...What.”

“I’m Babirye. I’m your sister, Nakato, and Queen of the Amalii.” She rotated on her seat, putting her seatbelt on as she engaged the first speed and placed her foot on the accelerator. “We have a lot to talk about.” 

Canary watched as Kukuroo mountain shrank in the rearview mirror, confusion written across her face. And yet… even though she was free from her shackles, something kept her exactly where she was. 

And so she listened. 

* * *

It would be an immense understatement to say that his family had been thrown into disarray since the wedding, or lack thereof, that morning. His mother was crying her eyes out, his father was clearly seething with rage, and Kalluto had packed his bags after the whole affair and been like “Well then, bye, Nii-sama” before leaving. Milluki skulked through the sunset-bathed hallways, wondering where everything had gone so wrong that even Illumi had decided to leave the family. 

The corriors seemed strangely cold and cramped. The air itself was pressing down on him, an undeclared death sentence. He knew why. With Illumi gone, it was like all the hope for a prosperous future for the Zoldycks had vanished. 

“That’s bullshit though,” Milluki muttered under his breath. “I’m still here, am I not?” 

He’d walked to his grandfather’s quarters almost on autopilot. There was a certain anger in his chest, as though everyone was already mourning something that wasn’t dead yet. He thought back to Killua’s joke about the cheeseburgers as he clasped at his shirt over his heart. 

“I’m still here,” he snarled, knocking on Zeno’s door. 

“Come in.” His grandfather probably had no need to ask who it was. Milluki pushed the door open, finding the elder assassin sitting at his desk. “Oh, Milluki. With Illumi gone, we’ll have to rethink our business strategy. There are a lot of—” 

“Grandpa,” Milluki interrupted, causing Zeno to look up towards the boy. “Will you… will you teach me Nen?” 

_ I won’t let the Zoldyck family name die like this. This is my legacy, too. _

* * *

Kalluto kicked the door to his apartment open, dragging his suitcase behind him. 

“Hey!” Phinks yelled from his place on the floor in front of the TV, where he was currently playing a game or some such against Feitan. “Could you open the door like a normal person?” 

“No,” Kalluto responded curtly before kicking the door closed behind him, rolling his suitcase to his room before returning to the living room, face-planting on the couch behind the two other Spiders. 

“So…” Phinks ventured, him and Feitan looking back at Kalluto, their game paused. “How was the weekend back home?” 

Kalluto turned his head toward the pair, frowning and furrowing his brows. 

“It was fine, I guess. I managed to be with Onii-sama a bit, which was nice. But then Illu-nii’s wedding was crashed by this clown who just completely destroyed everything and ugh, mom was super pissed off. I didn’t want to deal with her crying and telling me to stay, so I just left as soon as I could.” 

Feitan and Phinks exchanged a look. 

“So when you say clown, what exactly do you mean?” asked Feitan. 

“Like, this strange clown that’s always following my brother around since I can remember. Hisoka, I think is his name? He…” But whatever else Kalluto was about to say was swallowed by cries of “That asshole!” and “Where the fuck is he now?” and “We need to call the others!” and “Where did they go?” and Kalluto was  _ not  _ in the mood to deal, so he just turned around on the couch, ignoring his two companions. 

_ I’ll find my own path. And you can bet I’ll become better than all of you someday.  _

* * *

Canary’s head was swimming with information as she sat in the helicopter. According to Babirye, she was the co-regent of the Amalii, lost at a young age in Meteor City, always mourned by the country and sought after by her twin sister. It seemed like a story too marvelous to believe, if not for the girl sitting across from her, strapping in her parachute, possessing the exact same face she did. 

“We’re here,” Babirye spoke, throwing open the door of the helicopter. 

A strong wind rustled Canary’s hair, and her jaw dropped as she looked out. 

“Welcome,” Babirye said, “to your kingdom.” 

In front of her, lush expanses of green forest, wide rivers of sparkling water, and tall mountains seemed to extend endlessly towards the horizon. 

“This is…” 

“Your home, Nakato.” 

“Hmm…” She looked down, overlooking the scenery. “Is it okay if I keep going by Canary?” 

“Well, it reminds me of the caged bird you were up until now, but if you like it better, then of course, Canary.” Her sister smiled at her before jumping out of the helicopter. 

“ _ From now on, you can do whatever you wish. _ ”

And so Canary jumped out as well, her eyes open as she took in all of the sun-bathed kingdom that had suddenly been given to her, and the marvelous future that extended from there. 

_ Oh! I totally need to bring Amane here!  _

* * *

They’d made it onto a train, somehow. As the setting sun streamed in through the carriage windows, the two boys sat opposite one another on their seats, exhaustion suddenly settling on their bones. Their first priority was to get to Leorio’s in order to retrieve Alluka. Neither of them really knew where to go from there. 

“That… sure was a long weekend, huh, Killua?” Gon smiled at the white-haired boy, who nodded tiredly in response. 

“Yeah… I still can’t believe Illu-nii actually left.”

Killua looked out the window, seemingly lost in thought, and Gon couldn’t really blame him. After all that had happened, it wasn’t strange at all for him to need some time to himself. 

Some minutes passed before Gon spoke up again, pointedly looking to his hands instead of at Killua. 

“Y’know, Killua. I really like spending time with you. You’re a really nice person, and you’re super strong, and super smart, and you always clean up my messes.” 

A pause as Gon started picking at a loose bit of skin. 

“I really… I really don’t know where I’d be without you, and those months I spent without you were enough to teach me that I really don’t want to. Err, be without you, that is. I want to continue training with you, and growing stronger with you, obviously, but I also want to just spend time with you, and do normal people stuff, I guess.”

Gon considered if kissing your best friend’s cheek could be considered a normal person thing. 

“And I’m sorry. I guess I’ll never be able to tell you enough times how sorry I am, after everything that happened last year. So I’ve decided that I’m going to spend the rest of my life next to you, making you happy, to make up for that. If that’s okay with you? Because, Killua, I really, really, really, l—” 

But the words he was about to say were swallowed as he raised his head and saw Killua, in front of him… completely asleep. 

“Ah.” Gon blinked. When he thought about it, he remembered Killua saying something to the effect that he hadn’t slept at all during the previous night. And then he’d run all the way down Kukuroo mountain in Kanmuru mode. While carrying him. 

Gon chuckled softly. 

“Yeah, that’s okay, Killua. I’ll say it however many times I need to for you to hear me. Because, Killua, I really like you.” 

A soft sigh was heard from the sleeping boy, before he rolled around in his chair, legs propped up against his chest. Gon got up from his seat, sitting down next to Killua. 

“Hmm, idiot,” Killua mumbled incoherently, instinctively snuggling up next to Gon. “Really like you, too.” 

Gon rested his head on Killua’s fluffy hair, and watched the scenery go by. 

_ I promise you, Killua. Whatever happens, from now on, we’ll always be together.  _

* * *

Illumi rolled around on the bed, getting himself progressively more tangled up in the sheets. Before long, he found himself face to face with Hisoka, golden eyes shining in the darkness. 

“Illumi.” There was a softness in his voice that made Illumi want to curl up into himself, but then Hisoka was reaching out and pulling him closer for a kiss, and Illumi melted into the contact, his heart seemingly beating again after years collecting dust. 

“So…” Hisoka smirked, and Illumi knew exactly what was coming. “What do you want to do?” 

“I’d really like for you to stop asking me that every five minutes,” he deadpanned. “But… Maybe breakfast. Breakfast would be nice.” 

Hisoka rolled off the bed, and Illumi watched as his bare figure walked towards the closet. 

“Anything for you, darling~” 

“Yeah, also, don’t call me that.” Illumi stretched as he got up, eyeing Hisoka as he got dressed.

This all felt very foreign, and at the same time, exactly like he was doing what he should. There was still a nagging thought in the back of his head, calling to him with his mother’s voice, telling him what a bad son and terrible assassin he was. But right now, as he watched Hisoka carefully painting his face, he felt like he could learn to ignore it. 

“Everything okay?” Hisoka looked back at him, blue make-up pencil in one hand. 

“Yeah,” Illumi replied, smiling at the ridiculous clown who had thrown his life into disarray from the moment they’d met. “Everything’s okay.” 

And for the first time in his life, that might have truly been the truth. 


End file.
